


what if there is no tomorrow?

by iron_spider



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, groundhog day trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-07-02 14:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 69,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15798576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iron_spider/pseuds/iron_spider
Summary: "Tony, talk to me. What's going on with you? You're freaking us out."Tony keeps making his snow angel. He moves his arms and legs back and forth and stares up at the bright blue sky until Peter moves a little closer, eclipsing the sun. He narrows his eyes and stares down at him like he's insane.Because he is insane."Peter," Tony says, beginning the conversation he's had so many times before. "Do you trust me?""Of course," Peter says."We're in a time loop. I'm Bill Murray. I remember everything, you guys don't, we're...we are trapped. We're trapped, buddy. I've done this over and over. And over. And over and over and over. I don't know how to fix it. So I'm...giving up. I make snow angels now. And that's it."





	1. darling can’t you hear me

**Author's Note:**

> So anyone I mentioned this too, I was estimating it would be around 20k in TOTAL. LOL??? The first chapter is 17k. Yeah this thing is gonna be massive. Chapters are not prewritten, and the second one is gonna be the meat of the story, so stick with me if you like it! <3 <3 Rating and warnings may change in future chapters, stay tuned! Let me know what you think!

_“Tony!” Peter yells, from the doorway, where the fire hasn’t reached yet. “Tony, please!”_

_The carousel goes around again so Tony can’t see him. He holds onto his flamingo and coughs a little bit. The smoke is getting to him. “Peter, get the hell out of here!” he yells. “I don’t want you seeing this!” Why the hell did Peter have to follow him?_

_“No, no!” Peter yells, panic in his voice. The flames get a little too close to him and Tony’s heart lurches. “No, Tony, this isn’t—listen, I know something’s happening to you, I know you need help—”_

_“Kid, you gotta—you gotta go!” He knows how it looks. Not exactly a sane move, burning down a carousel while you’re riding on it. He wonders if this will work. Fire is the exact opposite of ice. He’s stuck in ice. They’re stuck in ice. Maybe this will do it. Maybe tomorrow will be his last today._

_He coughs again, he can barely see. He feels a little lightheaded, and it’s getting a lot hotter in here. He’s afraid of how it’ll feel—he’s burned himself before, but nothing on this scale. The walls around him are starting to crumble, and the ceiling looks like it’s ready to cave._

_“Tony, I’m not letting you die!” Peter yells. “I’m not, I’m not!”_

_Tony goes around the circle again and narrows his eyes when he sees the determination on Peter’s face. His heart dips—he can see what happens next, even though he hasn’t lived this version of events before. “No!” he yells. “Get out of here, it’ll be okay!”_

_“No!” Peter yells._

_Tony’s too high up on this fucking flamingo to jump down fast and put the kid’s mind at ease. But he tries, unhooks himself, but when he goes around again he sees Peter gritting his teeth, getting ready to run into the fire._

_No. Goddamn no. That other idiot—fuck, that felt like dying, and Tony doesn’t even like him. But Peter—not Peter. Tony can’t see this. Titan was once, Titan was enough. Never, ever again._

_“No, Peter!” Tony yells, still struggling to get down, get out without dying, with some horrific third degree burns, but when he tumbles down onto the aluminum floor of the carousel, the thing turns again to give him the perfect view of Peter, running into the fire._

~

“Alright,” Tony says, picking the bright red envelope out of the pile of mail. “Pepper.”

“What?” she calls, from somewhere down the hall. 

“I’m done with this,” he says, staring down at the envelope. Nederland. Again. Whoever the hell this is, they’re wasting a shit ton of paper, and they’ve definitely captured his attention.

“What?” Pepper asks. “Everything? All of it? I didn’t think you gave up so easily.”

“Nope,” he says, slicing open the envelope and finding the same damn letter inside that he’s gotten all the other times. “Nederland, Colorado.”

“Really?” she asks. “Again?”

“Number seventy five, baby,” Tony says, eyes scanning over the words. “And I think they finally got me.”

Pepper walks around the corner, looking confused. She’s seven months pregnant and she’s been in the habit of only wearing sweats and his oversized jackets since about three months ago. He thinks she’s fucking adorable, and he gets distracted for a second before she cocks her head at him. “You’re really gonna go?” she asks. “I mean, I don’t care, it’s just surprising they bullied you into it.”

He narrows his eyes. “They did not—you know I am not easily bullied, but this shit—I am—I am _intrigued_. Bright red envelopes, the same weird handwritten invitation every single day for seventy five days? An award for my _dad_? Now? Plus, we took a look at Nederland—”

“Yeah, it looks like your nightmare,” Pepper says. “Frozen Dead Guy Day?”

“Yeah, I should bring Steve with me,” Tony says, tapping the letter on his chin. “Anyways, we missed that by a couple months.”

Pepper rolls her eyes. “So you’re really gonna go?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“No, I don’t mind,” she says. “I just don’t want you to be annoyed if it’s…stupid. That’s why we vet these things.”

He’s pretty sure about it, at this point. Seventy five letters is a nice round number, very over the top, and now he’s gotta know what the hell is going on. “There are never any dates on these things, so I’ll jet out there—”

“You can just send a letter back and ask,” Pepper says, leaning on the wall. “Or, like, e-mail. It’s surprising they didn’t do that. Or call. Like normal people.”

“Nah, that’s no fun,” Tony says.

Pepper snorts, rolling her eyes. 

“I’ll be very in and out,” Tony says. “This whole town is like, as big as the compound itself, so I don’t think I’ll have any hangups.”

“Well, invite Peter,” she says. “He’s been all bored and antsy, May doesn’t know what the hell to do with him.”

Tony brightens. “Good idea. Maybe I’ll bring Rhodey and Happy too, if they’re free.”

“Yes,” Pepper says. “Please take Happy, he’s just about lost his mind lately.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rumors,” Tony says. “You sure you don’t care if I go? I don’t wanna come off like a deadbeat dad before the little lady actually arrives.”

“Please,” Pepper says. “Like you could ever be—I don’t even wanna repeat that moniker. No, I don’t care, it’ll be good for you to realize what these interns go through when we send them off to investigate things you get invited to.”

Tony huffs out a laugh.

“Plus, I’ve got that full week of meetings coming up and you know how much I like it that they’re all scared of me now. It’s great, I get a lot done.”

“As if they weren’t always scared.”

He shoots off a couple messages to the people that might be joining him, and maybe this interests him because it feels a little like a mystery or an adventure or some shit. Things have been good since they defeated Thanos. Much, much better since they restored the world and got everybody back. He and Pepper got married, Peter got into college, and Tony sees the kid every day, which is definitely his preferred situation, if he’s being honest with himself. There’s the occasional threat to the world, to New York, much to their chagrin, but nothing too serious, nothing that ever takes more than a night or two to take care of. 

The letters have been…a nuisance. Bright beacons of irritation that Tony initially thought were way past due library bills from his MiT days. 

But they were invitations. Requesting his presence at an award ceremony where goddamn Howard is going to receive some stupid trophy for some bullshit. In Nederland, Colorado, which kinda looks like a town from a Stephen King novel. 

Tony ignored them at first. He gets a lot of requests like that. But they kept coming. And coming. And coming. Every day identical, even the wording was exactly the same, the way the goddamn words were _written_. It was too weird and it had wedged its way into his brain, and his phone buzzes with a message from Peter.

_Oh man you’re giving in to the letters?? We’re going to the weird place?? Oh yeah I’m definitely coming with you I can’t wait!!_

~

They leave late the next day, and Tony is reminded that Rhodey packs for a two day vacation like he’s gonna be gone for three weeks. Happy seems glad to be back for Tony Stark security duty, even though that’s not why Tony wanted him along, and Peter is practically bouncing off the walls in excitement. Tony’s taken a couple vacations with the kid since they fixed the world, maybe treating him a little bit more like a five year old than a seventeen year old, bringing him to places like theme parks and zoos, but Peter doesn’t seem to care what they’re doing as long as they’re hanging out together. Tony can’t tell if he’s having a hard time thinking about leaving for college, but ever since he heard the news he’s been clingier than usual. It’s his spring break, and Tony’s seen him every day since he got out of school. 

They can’t fly into Nederland because it’s small enough not to have its own airport, so they fly into Denver, and because of a couple of delays they’re finally rolling up to the car rental station at about nine, struggling to manage all of the luggage. The cold is like sharp pinpricks on Tony’s skin, and he rolls down his sleeves, putting his hood up.

“Peter, you have your big jacket on, right?” Tony asks, looking back at him.

“Yeah, dad,” Peter says. 

“Don’t mock my concern.”

“It’s so goddamn late. This is why I hate flying,” Happy says, dragging his suitcase angrily. “Why were we sitting on the tarmac for almost an hour? Why? I wanna know why.”

“One of life’s great mysteries,” Tony says, snorting at the angry line of Happy’s shoulders. “C’mon, you should be used to delays, you’re friends with me.”

“I’ll rent the car,” Rhodey says. “I don’t trust any of you driving on these mountain roads.”

“Uh, offended,” Tony says. “I can traverse any terrain.”

“You can trust me,” Happy says. “I’ve driven everywhere. And I mean everywhere.”

“I’m mostly talking about the kid,” Rhodey says, shooting a look over his shoulder at Peter once he gets to the counter.

“I can drive fine, but I’m not allowed to rent yet,” Peter says, crossing his arms over his chest. “You should know that.”

“I also know you don’t do what you’re told, uh, ever,” Rhodey says. 

Tony clears his throat. “I told May I wouldn’t get you lost in the mountains, Peter, so—”

“Oh my God, I’m a responsible adult,” Peter says, giving Tony a long-suffering look.

All three of them laugh. Even the woman in the car rental station laughs. Peter definitely doesn’t laugh. 

They get a Ford that looks like it’s been around since the first Bush administration and the snow starts falling. Delicately at first and then harder, hard enough that Rhodey starts driving like he’s eighty years old and in danger of getting his license revoked. The snow offsets the darkness in a weird way that somehow makes it worse, and Tony can hardly see the trees on the side of the road, or the goddamn road itself for that matter. He isn’t very experienced with snow, he still gets war flashbacks from all that shit with crashing in Tennessee and half-adopting Harley. So he tries to table his paranoia about anything happening to the car or anyone in it, and he’s glad Peter and Happy seem distracted by some game on Peter’s phone.

“No,” Happy says. “Use the double strike, c’mon kid.”

“I like to save them,” Peter says. “For those big green guys.”

“I’m telling Bruce you want to double strike him,” Tony says, keeping his eyes on the road.

“No, Tony, they look more like aliens.”

“I hate this shit,” Rhodey mutters. “I shoulda let you drive.”

“Maybe if we had left earlier—”

“Cut it out, you’re lucky I’m here,” Rhodey snaps.

“You know I love you,” Tony says, grinning in the direction of all Rhodey’s grumpiness. “Love you so much that I got us adjoining rooms!”

Rhodey pauses. He’s quiet. The only sounds in the car are the little _pew pew_ effect noises from Peter’s phone. Tony knows Rhodey wants to look at him, to glare, but he’s too scared to take his eyes off the winter wonderland consuming them on all sides.

“What the hell does that mean—”

“Well, adjoining means—”

“Tony—”

“It means we’re staying in the Pioneer Lodge, the only bed and breakfast in town, which is located in the same parking lot as a train car bar and the general store. They only had two more rooms left when I called this morning, so I’m hanging with Peter and you’re bunking with Happy.”

“Please tell me we got separate beds.”

“Uh, please,” Happy says, from the back seat. “It’d be an honor to sleep in the same bed as me.”

“Yeah, separate beds, so this is not your opportunity, Hap,” Tony says. He clears his throat. “You guys are lucky we missed Frozen Dead Guy Day.”

They’d all looked up Nederland when Tony first started getting the letters, and they found out the place was fuckin weird as hell. Pretty, but very weird. It’s small, huddled up in the mountains, and looks like it’s set about twenty years in the past. And it has Frozen Dead Guy Day. Which is dedicated to some guy that that’s been cryogenically frozen there since 1989. The whole town celebrates hard for a day, with all kinds of weird activities, like the polar plunge, drinking contests, an actual ball where everybody dresses up in blue, and tours of where the old guy is still frozen. It’s weird. They’d all agreed that it was weird. 

“Glad we avoided that,” Rhodey says. 

“I looked up videos,” Happy jumps in. “Lots of drunk mountain people at that thing.”

Tony laughs at how accusatory he sounds, like it’s Tony’s fault. “Yeah, sounds like a party,” he says.

“Yeah, it does,” Peter says.

“Not a party for you,” Tony says, pointing over his shoulder. “Anyways, next time.” His phone makes an announcement, and he looks down at the bright map in his lap. “Alright, you’re rolling up on it here,” Tony says. “Road’s gonna veer to the right, just follow it around.”

“Jesus,” Rhodey says, as he starts to make the turn, and Tony can hear the tires having a hard time gripping the sleek wetness of the road. “I have a feeling we’re gonna regret this whole trip.”

~

The snow isn’t falling as hard once they get into town, and as soon as Tony catches sight of the empty parking lots and looming streetlights, he kinda feels like they’re in a goddamn horror movie. 

“Guess they don’t have much of a night life,” Tony says, looking around.

“I’m pretty sure that building back there said Carousel of Happiness,” Peter says, sitting up in his seat like a little kid and looking out the back window. 

“I wonder if that’s a literal carousel,” Happy says, following his gaze.

“You said Pioneer Lodge, right?” Rhodey asks.

“Yeah, thar she blows,” Tony says, pointing at the building in the middle of the parking lot, next to a bridge, a body of water, and the train car bar a couple feet away. 

“I’m gonna drop as soon as we get in there,” Happy says. “Sorry, Rhodey.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t have any plans,” Rhodey says. 

“Are you sure that’s it?” Peter asks, leaning forward as Rhodey pulls into the parking lot. “It looks really small.”

“Yeah, no wonder we have adjoining rooms,” Happy says. 

“Yup, this is it,” Tony says. “Our only option, bud, hope you’re not disappointed.”

“No, no,” Peter says. “This is gonna be awesome. This place is so weird.”

Tony looks back at him and gets a weird feeling for a second, like he’s dragging him into a trap. This place, what they’ve seen of it so far—and he figures they’ve seen most of it—has a weird kind of ambiance, like there’s something lurking behind every empty corner. It’s too goddamn quiet. He knows it’s a small town but it’s really fucking weird that there’s absolutely nobody around. Peter gives him a little look, like he can tell what he’s thinking, and Tony smiles back, trying to ease the nerves he probably gave him in the first place.

Rhodey parks, turns off the engine, and then they’re sitting in a quiet car.

“Take Peter in,” Rhodey says. “Happy and I will bring everything while you check us in.”

“Uh, you’re carrying your own things,” Happy says, getting out of the car. Rhodey rolls his eyes but he gets out too, and Tony looks back at Peter.

“Let’s go, bud,” he says. Peter nods, and both of them get out, closing their doors behind them. They walk on ahead of Rhodey and Happy, and Tony looks up and around. The mountains look like giants lurking in the darkness, and they’re surrounding them on all sides.

Peter bumps into his shoulder. “You okay?”

“This place is weird,” Tony says, making a face as he pushes the front door to the lodge open. The inside of this place is homey enough, like a little cabin, a fire crackling in front of two cushy chairs that look older than he is. He really wishes he brought a suit, some goddamn nanotech, and he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

No service. He groans.

“Pete, you got service? Mine is shot.”

Peter looks down at his phone. “Ugh, no—nothing.”

“Shit,” Tony sighs. That—isn’t a good sign. It doesn’t make him happy. He’s definitely gotta wander around this town and find the place where he can get some goddamn bars. They walk behind a couple of well-adorned pillars and finally, he sees another human face that isn’t from his own party. 

The woman behind the front desk looks like she’s in her early sixties, and tiredness pulls around her eyes. She’s wearing a pale pink blouse and she smiles softly when she sees him and Peter approaching. Peter keeps punching in commands on his phone, and Tony puts his hands on the desk.

“Hello, friends,” the woman says. “What can I do you for?”

“Hi,” Tony says, and he has the brief thought that she’s some kind of Westworld robot, hell bent on killing them. He knows she should recognize him, most people do whether he wants them to or not, but there’s nothing behind her eyes that says she knows him from any other drunk off the street. He clears his throat. “Uh, I’ve got two rooms, under Stark, they’re supposed to be—adjoining.”

“Ah, yes,” she says, flipping through a large leather book. “I was waitin’ on you. Last ones to check in for the night—you’ve got the brick red and stormy blue rooms. You’ll find ‘em by the plaques on the walls.” She picks up two large keys from a wall hanging behind her, and hands them over with a smile. “You’re all set.”

“That’s it?” Tony asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“That’s it,” the woman says, just as Rhodey and Happy come clamoring through the door. “Enjoy the festivities, boys. Get some of that Frozen Dead Guy ice cream.”

Tony stares at her. Festivities? Frozen Dead Guy? No, they’d missed that shit. Maybe they have the ice cream year round? He’s not gonna question it. He looks at Peter and he’s staring too, his nose turned up. “Uh, sure,” Tony says. “Sounds…sounds very…appetizing.”

“Yes sir,” she says, nodding. 

Tony grits his teeth behind a forced smile and he nods at her, taking the keys and tapping his hand on the counter. He reaches back and guides Peter away, feeling a surge of protectiveness for some reason, and they walk over to meet Rhodey and Happy. 

“Anyone else getting the heebie jeebies?” Happy asks, looking around.

“Doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Tony says, shaking his head. 

~

They try the phones in their rooms but whenever they attempt to call out of the motel they’re somehow redirected to other rooms, which makes for a few wrong number situations that Tony deals with better than Happy does. They eventually give up when they reach the front desk three times in a row. 

They make plans to wake up at nine and meet a half hour later in the lobby to begin their search for the goddamn address on all seventy five of the letters. 

The walls are so thin that Tony can hear every word that Happy and Rhodey are saying to each other, and he washes his face before he walks back out into the bedroom, getting into the bed closest to the door. Their room is small and looks kinda ancient, like an abandoned cabin somewhere deep in the woods. Lots of quilts, a big leather chair in the corner and a little kitchen with a gas stove and the oldest fridge Tony has ever seen. Peter is already in the other bed, looking sadly at his phone, which he promptly sets down on the bedside table when he sees Tony looking at him. 

“Still no service,” Peter says. “I wish I woulda texted May in the car.”

“Same thing for Pepper,” Tony says, turning off the light. “I shoulda known better, this place looked like the mouth of hell from all the pictures—I knew I shouldn’t have trusted this much snow—it really shouldn’t still be snowing this much—”

“Are you really worried, like, for real?” Peter asks. Tony looks over at him—he’s got the covers pulled up to his chin and his eyes are shining in the dark. The moon is casting a weird blue light behind the curtains and it kinda makes Peter’s hair look like it’s tinted the same color. Like an underwater halo.

“No,” Tony lies. “It’s fine. We’ll go to this weird award thing tomorrow, collect that so I can throw it in the trash, grab some lunch here, check out that train car bar—”

“Maybe go up the ski lift?”

Tony smiles. “If you want.”

“I do. I do want.”

“Okay, then we will,” Tony says. “Now go to sleep, we gotta get all that in tomorrow because we’re gonna get the hell out of here early the next morning.”

“Okay,” Peter says, and he settles a little more against his pillow. “Night, Tony.”

“Night, kid.” 

The last thing he remembers hearing, other than Peter’s breathing, is something breaking in Happy and Rhodey’s room. Tony is too goddamn tired to go see what it is, and he slowly drifts to sleep.

~

He’s startled awake by ABBA.

_So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me_  
_SOS_  
_The love you gave me, nothing else can save me_  
_SOS_

He hears Peter groaning and shifting and he covers his own ear with the pillow, but the song continues to waft through the air, seeping through the linen and the feathers and sneaking directly into his skull. He sighs, tossing the pillow down towards the end of the bed.

“I don’t even remember you setting an alarm,” Peter says, wiping his eyes.

“Me either,” Tony mutters, loath to even sit up.

Peter groans again, rolling onto his back. “God, I forgot where we were for a second there.”

“Me too,” Tony says. He hates his ambitious past-self, willing to leave his pregnant wife and warmth to drag three of his favorite people here for an award for goddamn Howard, who’s probably laughing from the afterlife right now. 

He rubs his eyes and leans over, trying to find the off switch on the goddamn prehistoric machine screaming _SOS_ at him right now. He presses about six buttons but it only seems to get louder.

“Maybe you should just smash it,” Peter says, still curled up amongst his pile of blankets. 

“You are speaking to the iron Avenger, not the green one.”

Peter smiles as Tony picks the alarm clock up and turns it over. “I think you miss Bruce,” Peter says.

“No more than normal,” Tony says, trying to concentrate while the kid is apparently trying to draw him into an emotional conversation. 

“You keep mentioning him,” Peter says.

“He’s a good reference,” Tony says. He finds a little red button behind a small trap door, and when he presses it the music stops. 

“Thank God,” Tony breathes, putting the thing back down next to the base of the lamp.

“He and Thor need to come home more often,” Peter says.

“Who and Thor?” Tony asks, looking up at him. “God?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “When we get back home I’m gonna tell Bruce to call you.”

“Okay, stop trying to set up play dates, stop luxuriating, we’re wasting time here.” Peter stares at him and Tony claps his hands. “C’mon, get dressed.”

“Fine,” Peter says, stretching out a little bit. “Bossy.”

“That’s right,” Tony says, cracking his neck. “I’m the boss.” He gets up, and when he walks closer to the wall he can hear Cher’s _Believe_ seeping through the panels, and Rhodey and Happy both cursing. He laughs a little to himself, and just as he’s turning into the bathroom the adjoining door bursts open and Happy’s there, in all his striped pajama glory, looking back and forth at them.

“There’s a trap door on the back,” Tony says, when Happy meets his eyes. “Little red button. They really wanna wake people all the way up.”

“Thank you,” Happy breathes, rolling his eyes. “Jesus Christ. First breaking that stupid glass, now this. I do not believe in life after love.”

~

They’re walking down the hallway in a huddled group of four, and Rhodey yawns for the fifth time in the space of five minutes.

“Sleep good?” Tony asks him. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah, the bed was, uh…real firm.”

“I love Cher, but I never wanna wake up like that again,” Happy says. “I don’t even remember setting the goddamn alarm.”

“We got ABBA,” Peter says, “but I was pretty much awake already because of Tony’s snoring.”

“Um, lies,” Tony says, smacking Peter on the arm. “I sleep like a baby. Well, a good baby. Complete silence. Some drooling.”

All of them laugh at him.

“Um, Tones, all the people here have one, slept in close quarters with you, and two, speak with Pepper on a daily basis.”

Tony frowns. “Yeah, well, all the people—”

A maid comes out of a door they’re passing by and gives them a smile. “You need anything, boys? I’ve got extra mints in my cart!” She pulls it out of the room and gestures towards it for emphasis. 

“Oh no,” Happy starts. “We’re—”

“I’ll take a mint,” Peter says, smiling happily.

“Of course, sweetheart,” she says, fishing a couple out of her bowl and putting them into his outstretched palm. “I hope you four enjoy the festivities today! We’ve got coffin races in just about ten minutes out on Main Street! You could make it!”

Tony stops. This is the second reference by one of the locals to that weird dead guy thing. He’s gotta ask, despite the trepidation in his heart. “Is—is it still—are you having Frozen Dead Guy Day again?”

“Again?” she laughs. “Today’s the day, honey!”

Tony feels like he punctures a fucking lung.

“Oh, God,” Rhodey says, shaking his head. “What?”

“Wow, Tony,” Happy says. “How’d you manage that? Guess we are going to the party, kid,” he says, elbowing Peter in the ribs. Peter looks way too excited.

“Okay,” Tony says, with a sigh. 

“Go on, go on,” the woman says. “You look like coffin racing champions!”

“Wow,” Tony says, grinning at her, and then he continues to walk, the others following in his wake. Goddamn Frozen Dead Guy Day—again—what the hell is this place?

“I can’t believe we somehow—caught it,” Rhodey says, scowling at Tony. “You said that shit was months ago.”

“Maybe it’ll be fun?” Peter asks, looking hopeful.

“Don’t miss the newly dead game before dinner tonight!” the woman calls, from behind them. “Like the newlywed game, but better!”

“None of us qualify!” Tony yells back, smiling over his shoulder.

“Thanks for the tip, though!” Peter says, waving back at her.

“I really cannot—believe this,” Rhodey says. “Frozen Dead Guy Day, here we come.”

“Don’t sound so ominous,” Tony says.

They step into the lobby. A few small explosions go off in Tony’s head, because he can’t fucking believe what he’s seeing. He doesn’t know if he’s hallucinating or not, and he stops walking, the other three running into him. His heart is running ragged. No way, no _way._

“Tony, what—holy shit.”

Tony wants to echo Rhodey’s sentiments but his voice gets lost somewhere between his shock and his disgust. 

Justin Hammer is standing there in the lobby, wearing a Hawaiian shirt that has no place in this goddamn climate, and a shit-eating grin. He’s holding a basket of what can only be called a bunch of random crap, and he laughs, holding his hand out like he’s presenting himself to an adoring audience.

“Hey, Tony,” he says, laughing again. “How’s it hanging?”

“What the hell is this?” Tony asks, a squeaky tremor in his voice. “You’re supposed to be in prison, you’re supposed to be anywhere but here. Anywhere. Why the hell are you—here? When I’m here?”

“I’m your committee,” Justin says, and he looks the same as he did years ago, still thin as a rail, a little scruffier. He steps forward, putting his basket down on the thick rug under their feet. He grabs the bundle of old-looking flowers and shoves them into Tony’s arms. “We—we meaning me—would like to honor you,” he says, and he adds a Frozen Dead Guy bear beside the flowers. Tony doesn’t know why the fuck he’s letting him hand him things. He feels like a frozen goddamn dead guy. “Honor you for being the first and only son of the great Howard Stark—the smartest man to ever walk this earth.”

Tony narrows his eyes.

Justin adds an already opened box of thin mint cookies to Tony’s arms. “And here is my most valued gift—not the cookies—a silk bracelet my beautiful ex-girlfriend gave to me, which I ripped in half to share with you. Like friendship bracelets! Me and you! J and T!” He moves in swiftly, tying the fraying band around Tony’s left wrist in a tight knot. He steps back, admiring his work, and Tony tugs his hand away. He doesn’t have time to think about taking it off before a voice pipes up beside him.

“Uh,” Peter says, particularly close to Tony’s shoulder, almost like he’s trying to protect him. “What’s—what’s going on?”

That snaps Tony out of his stupor. “Uh, yeah, that is the question, isn’t it?”

“I’m gonna call the goddamn police,” Rhodey says. 

“Oh Jesus, are these guys actually like, with you?” Justin asks, recoiling a bit and turning up his nose. “You brought people? I thought they were just standing unusually close.”

“Look, asshole—”

“Yeah, we’re with him—”

Tony drops the flowers, the plush and the cookies back into the abandoned basket, his brainwaves breaking through the glaze of shock and putting two and two together. “Hold. Back up. It was you?”

“I wanna go back to the ‘you should be in jail’ point,” Happy says.

“Good behavior,” Justin says, his hands on his hips. “I’m a well behaved boy.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t—that doesn’t compute,” Tony says, shaking his head.

“Call anybody, I’ve been an absolute blessing to that prison,” Justin says “Charity work, Shakespearean productions, programs with the church, I’m all up in it, baby.”

Tony was never too fazed by this creep, but right now his heart is starting to do that start-stop thing it does when he knows a panic attack is incoming. He looks at Justin’s smarmy face and his stomach turns over. “Call anybody?” he asks. “I’m pretty sure you know full well we can’t call shit in this frozen hell, Peter and I haven’t had bars since last night, and I’m sure it’s the same for you two.” He looks at Rhodey and Happy and receives nods of resignation. 

“Yeah, about your entourage,” Justin says, and he still looks disgusted. “I wasn’t expecting you to, uh, bring people.”

There’s a pain blooming in the center of Tony’s forehead. “You didn’t—”

Justin pats his pockets. “Uh, I don’t have any gifts for them—oh, hey, here’s a pack of trident, kid,” he says, throwing Peter a pack of gum. Peter catches it, and looks at Tony with confusion in his eyes. “Gotta keep up your cleanliness, I know Tony Stark has big expectations for people that aren’t perfect.”

Anger flares up and Tony narrows his eyes. “First of all, the kid is—eight billion times the person you will ever be, you don’t even deserve to look at him—second—perfect? You think you’re even toeing the line of decent? You act like you have a couple of flaws, no big deal?”

“Now, Tony, don’t get all riled up—”

Tony is definitely riled up. “There’s gotta be some kind of local PD around here—”

“Yeah, like—”

“Now, now,” Justin says, taking Tony’s arm, which Tony quickly wrenches away from him. “If you think there’s foul play at work, the smartest thing to do would be to follow me. Right? Right? You’re the goddamn Iron Man, you could take me out with one mean hit.”

Tony isn’t the goddamn Iron Man right now. He took the housing unit back out once Pepper got pregnant, because her nostrils flared whenever she looked at it, and she was already pretty pissed he still had it in for the wedding. But right now he wishes he hadn’t, because Justin Hammer is a goddamn menace to society and Tony isn’t believing that good behavior bullshit for one second. 

“Back to my previous, horrifying realization—you did the whole award thing?” Tony asks, deadpan. “You?”

“Me and about six other people,” Justin says, wiping at his nose. “They didn’t need much convincing—just, real quick, you didn’t like the presents? Mental note.”

“The dumb shit you brought?” Tony asks, looking down at the basket. “That reminds me, kid, don’t chew that gum.” He turns around and catches Peter halfway through opening a piece, and then he nods, tossing it towards the trash can in the corner. 

“Dumb shit, okay, didn’t like it,” Justin says, nodding. “Alright, are you gonna come with me or are we gonna have a brawl here? Because if you choose brawl, I’m about to—skedaddle, try my luck again tomorrow—”

Tony turns and meets Rhodey’s eyes. Rhodey was right there in the trenches with Justin’s goddamn drones, knows what a dangerous shithead this guy is. Tony doesn’t think there’s foul play at work, he _knows_ there is, but he also knows he’s not gonna find out whatever it is just standing here in a verbal sparring match. He doesn’t like putting the rest of them in danger, but apparently he’s already done that by bringing them here, which is the last thing he hoped he was doing. What could Hammer be up to in goddamn Nederland? Why the whole ruse? He can answer that one—he never would have come if he’d known. He would have alerted the FBI and gotten the dickhead sent back to Seagate. 

So why did he want him here? What does he have to gain? Tony has to know.

“Okay,” Tony says. “I’m gonna go with him, you guys—”

“Are gonna go with you,” Rhodey says, looking at him like he’s insane.

“No—”

“Uh, yeah,” Happy says. 

“We wouldn’t leave—”

“Definitely not you,” Tony says, pointing at Peter. “No way, no how, sorry kid.” He’s wanted to put Peter in a goddamn bubble since he got him back, and his heart sinks every time the kid so much as steps the wrong way. 

But Peter is stubborn as hell, just like him. 

“Uh, no, sorry, I’m going with you,” Peter says, holding his chin high and looking younger than he has in a while. It sends worry coursing through Tony’s veins.

“Tony, c’mon,” Justin says. “I’m not gonna—listen, no one’s in danger! I just wanna show you my beautiful tribute to your incredibly talented father—hand you a very modest trophy in front of a few spectators—” He coughs, his eyes darting around, and then he looks at Tony again. “Then we can enjoy Frozen Dead Guy Day! Aren’t you so glad that’s today? Today of all days? Man, I know I am. We could make the Polar Plunge after the ceremony, that’s always fun, especially if they’re wearing their goddamn costumes. Redhead dead bride. Maybe she’ll win this time.”

“I—do not want to hear more about this goddamn weirdass celebration—I thought we were gonna completely avoid it—”

“Oh,” Justin says, hissing and wincing a little bit. “Yeah, I hope you get used to it—”

“Let’s go,” Peter says, taking a couple steps forward, away from their group and towards the door. 

“Peter,” Tony says, quickly following after him.

“I know who this guy is,” Peter says, shooting Justin a look over Tony’s shoulder. “And like I said, I’m going with you.”

Justin was the one that threatened this kid when Tony didn’t even know who he was. Justin’s drone stood there, and a little mini-Peter Parker squared up against it, wearing an Iron Man mask. Tony thinks about it, thinks about everything he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t made it in time to save him. He looks at Peter’s defiant eyes now and knows, no matter how hard he stomps his feet or how many freakouts he has, Peter’s gonna stay right there beside him. He cracks his jaw and Peter’s face goes a little slack when he realizes Tony isn’t gonna fight him, a small smile presenting itself on his face. 

“Okay,” Tony says, looking over at Justin and jerking his head forward. “Let’s go, dickweed, and get this over with.”

“I have some lovely things to show you,” Justin says, quickly fluttering around them. He yanks a jacket off a polar bear statue by the door and wraps it around his shoulders. “We’ve been planning this ceremony for—longer than expected.”

Tony is tired of his bullshit lies. “Yeah,” he says, shooting a look over his shoulder at the others. Happy and Rhodey look pissed, their brows perpetually furrowed. Peter looks ready to fight, though he trembles under his layers as soon as they step outside. The snow is coming down more like it was on the drive into town, but Justin trudges ahead like he hardly notices it.

“Trust me, this place—all it’s natural splendor,” Justin says, gesturing to the stark, white landscape all around them. “I hope you’ll fall in love with it. I know I have. I’ve had—lots of time to just. Completely fall in love with it.”

There’s a stage set up between the motel and the general store, with what looks like fifty or so people gathered around it. There’s what looks like some kinda weird dead guy costume contest going on, and there is a redhead bride up there. Tony looks over at Justin, but he isn’t even looking in that direction. There are two little girls set up at a table just beside the motel, selling dead flowers, sparkling and catching the sunlight. There are decorations wrapped around light poles, clinging to every building in sight. Everything has the same theme—Frozen Dead Guy. There’s also something with a big banner labeled—he reads it twice, to make sure—ice turkey bowling. Where people are bowling. With frozen turkeys. 

This place is weird as shit.

“This place is so goddamn weird,” Rhodey says, as they follow Justin across the street. 

“Same brain,” Tony says, with a sigh. Justin clears his throat loudly. There isn’t much traffic here, but there sure are a lot of people, most of them with drinks in their hands, half of them painted a strange tint of blue. A dog wearing a skeleton costume runs by, and a little kid in a matching costume chases after him, hollering _Jeff! Jeff!_

“Who names their dog Jeff?” Happy asks, scoffing.

“Always think that,” Justin says. “Every time.”

“He’s acting weird,” Peter whispers, looking at Tony.

“He is weird,” Tony says. “This place is weird, he’s weird, this goddamn fake holiday is weird—we’re in for a lot of weird, bud, in the ten minutes I’m gonna let this go on before we get the hell out of dodge.”

Peter smiles at him. Sometimes it freaks Tony out how much trust the kid has in him, no matter what’s happening, but it does give him something to live up to.

“Right up here,” Justin says, pointing wildly up ahead. There’s a big building in another plaza, just behind the boxcar, that looks like it could be some kind of theater or auditorium. The snow is piled up on its pointed roof, sliding down the spires, and it’s piled up in big clumps in the surrounding fenced-in areas around the building. 

“What the hell is all that?” Rhodey asks, and Tony follows his line of sight, sees exactly where Justin is leading them.

“Now, I didn’t do all of these,” Justin says, and he almost looks like he’s goddamn skipping as he opens the gate. Tony sees what Rhodey’s looking at, what Justin’s referring to—fucking ice sculptures. Five of them.

“I wouldn’t be owning to any of this shit,” Happy scoffs. 

“Wow, what are you, an art—sculpture—critic?” Justin laughs, looking at him. 

“Uh, I’m with him,” Tony says. “They look like shit, Hammer, they look like—blobby aliens, and I’ve seen aliens…” Justin stops in front of the last one and gazes up lovingly at it. “Who’s that supposed to be?” Tony asks, walking over next to him. “William Howard Taft?”

“No, what? William—no, that’s Howard Stark, my man, that’s him, in the flesh! Well, in the ice.”

Tony stares at him. He hears Rhodey snort behind him. He hears Peter whispering something to Happy. And then he stares at the statue. The ice thing, which is melting, already, looks more like Wilson Fisk than his goddamn father. And it’s got some kind of weird look on its face, like it needs to take a shit. He sighs, half wanting to laugh because Howard would be horrifyingly insulted by this overly large, dripping ice thing, half wanting to flare up in anger because Justin is taking them for a ride and he still doesn’t know why.

He turns around, sees Happy taking a photo of the thing. Then Peter poses in front of it. Rhodey catches sight of Tony’s face and muffles a laugh.

“Wow,” Tony deadpans. “This on it’s own is reason enough for you to go back to prison.”

“What?” Justin asks. “This is some of my best work.”

“Okay,” Tony says, shaking his head. “We’re gonna get the hell out of here—”

“No, no, no,” Justin says, shaking his head. “No, c’mon—right inside, I’ll give you the trophy, the certificates we made up, you’ll see I’m not bullshitting you, I promise.”

“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it,” Tony says. “Hurry up, I’m not a big fan of all this snow business—”

“Come, come, right this way, follow me,” Justin says, and this is his last goddamn chance, Tony promises himself in his head. He doesn’t know why he’s not knocking the dude out and putting him in the trunk of the rental car.

“Gotta go in the back door,” Justin says, a few paces ahead of them and weaving along the sidewalk that leads to a wooden door, which has a Frozen Dead Guy Day poster pasted on it. He ushers them inside and Tony scoffs, walking forward as they all file inside.

“We’re in a kitchen,” he says, looking around at the stoves and fridges. “You gonna bake us a cake? Is that my trophy? Because Howard only liked lemon meringue pies—”

He turns just in time to see it, to see Justin push Happy as hard as he fucking can—Happy topples into Peter and Rhodey, the three of them collapsing to the ground just inside a—fuck. Fuck. 

Tony’s moving but he’s too slow, and Justin slams the freezer door shut, trapping the three of them inside it. He turns down the temperature, makes it cold as shit, and then Tony punches him directly in the nose. Tony goes for the door but it’s got a fucking code he needs to punch in, and he’s panicking—Peter’s face is in the window, the other two behind him, and they’re mouthing words but Tony can’t hear them, he’s fucking panicking—

“Now, why’d you have to go and do that?” Justin says, his fingers on his nose. “Jesus Christ, Tony—”

“Let them out,” Tony says, gesturing to the door that Justin moves to stand in front of. “Now. Now! Now and I won’t kill you.” He needs the suit, he fucking needs it, he could break the handle with the suit, like this he can’t do shit, can’t help them—

“I’ve gotta talk to you and this is the encouragement you needed to fucking listen to me.”

“The only thing I’m being encouraged to do right now is bash your goddamn head in,” Tony says. His heartrate is skyrocketing, and he keeps looking back and forth between the freezer window and Justin’s goddamn idiot face. They all look like they’re trying to pull the door open, but it won’t budge.

“You listen to me and I’ll let them out,” Justin says, smearing the blood under his nose when he wipes his hand across it. “I can say it all real fast, and I need some promises from you—”

“You aren’t getting shit from me—”

“Then I’ll let them die,” Justin says, shrugging. “And you’ll have to watch. Nothing’s gonna open that door but the numbers in my brain, this town’s real serious about their freezing capabilities. Can’t break the glass either, it’s reinforced. I’ll let you kill me, I don’t care, it doesn’t matter to me.”

A chill runs down Tony’s spine and he grits his teeth. He feels like he’s gonna puke. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted this asshole, he knew it, he’s gotta learn to trust his fucking gut. “You have one minute,” he says, trying to keep his breathing steady. “Then I’ll take you up on that offer.” He knows he can’t. He could try to guess the code, go through all the possibilities, but it would take too much goddamn time. 

“You seen the movie Groundhog Day?” Justin asks.

“You’ve got no more minutes,” Tony growls. 

“Okay, let’s just—here’s a deal, might get some of your frustration out—I’m gonna tell you what’s up, but you can put your hands around my throat and just—squeeze when you’re angry, but you still gotta let me talk—”

Tony winces, glaring at him. “That’s—way too sexual—”

Justin grins, tilting his head to the side. “Yeah, I used to do it with my ex-girlfriend—”

“They are _freezing to death!_ ” Tony yells, stepping towards him. 

“Just do it!”

It does feel like a good idea right about now, and he steps forward again, slapping his hands down on Justin’s collarbones. His eyes dart over to the freezer window again, where Peter, Rhodey and Happy are all staring at him, concerned. He looks at Justin again. “Talk.”

Justin sighs. “I was bullshitting you before, with all the shit about Howard. I had to get you here. Groundhog Day. I’m living it. This place, this—frozen hell—yes, okay, yes, I broke out of prison, it was a particularly—impressive feat, if I do—” Tony grits his teeth and his hands travel up closer to Justin’s neck and Justin nods. “Okay, okay—so my ex helped me, said I should meet her here—and then it starts happening. This is the day. I’ve done this goddamn day over and over and over again.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tony asks, his blood still boiling.

“Like Groundhog Day. Time has literally been—stuck—on this day. For about…Jesus, I think it’s been around a hundred days now. I live out a whole day, and then wherever I am at midnight, I instantly wake back up in my bed at the motel. I’m the only one that realizes it. No one else knows, they’re not…aware of it. But we’re all stuck, the whole goddamn town is stuck.”

Tony shakes his head at him. None of this makes sense. It’s just more bullshit. His friends and his damn kid are suffering while Justin makes up more stupid stories.

“Uh—for example, I, uh—hooked up with this woman, Angela, from the general store, and then in the next loop she just—she completely forgot, like she was meeting me for the first time—”

“—probably just regretting her terrible choices, your minute’s almost up—”

“—it’s the same day, over and over again, down to the letter. Gabe in the stained orange shirt with the almond butter. The turkey bowl and Darrel with the broken hand. Jeff the dog. _You got my last gummy worms! You look like you need ‘em!_ I’m stuck, the whole town is stuck, but like I said, I’m the only one that knows it. Some sort of…magic hell. I’ve killed people, I’ve fucked—numerous people—”

Tony groans, rolling his eyes.

“—and it all snaps right back. Midnight, it resets, I wake up at eight in the morning. Nobody fucking knows but me. I can’t get out, every time I try the storm flares up right outside town limits and I have to turn back or I fucking…die out there. Something happens, every single time I try to leave. It can be clear skies but as soon as I step over the limits I’m swept up in a storm, a road block, an avalanche, a fucking car hits me. Anything, every goddamn thing has happened to keep me from getting out. People can get in but they can’t get out, and they’re just—absorbed into the day.”

“Jesus—Christ,” Tony says. He’s tired of this. “Open the door, let them out. Let them—”

“No,” Justin says. “Not until you agree to help me—I sent letters to you for a reason—I didn’t even know if they were getting there—fucking internet is garbage here, everybody has dial-up and nothing goes through, had to try the old-fashioned way—”

“If you’re the only one who remembers, how the hell could I help you?” Tony asks, really thinking about choking this dickhead to death if Peter wasn’t watching. And freezing to death at the same time. Jesus God.

“Because you’re a genius. Because you can do anything, even if you only have a day.”

Tony looks into the freezer window again. They’re farther away now, and Happy and Rhodey are on either side of Peter, rubbing his arms. No fucking way, he’s not letting this happen for one second longer. “I’ll help you,” he says, pushing Justin a little as he backs away from him. “I’ll help you. Now let them out.”

Justin’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “You will?”

“I will. Open the goddamn freezer door.”

Justin stares at him for a second, narrowing his eyes. Then he shoves his hand out in Tony’s direction. “Pinky swear?”

Tony literally. Is so close to killing him. He wraps his pinky around Justin’s and nearly fucking breaks it. He pulls his own hand back. It’s freezing in the kitchen, he can’t even imagine how cold it is where the others are. “Open. The door.”

Justin glares at him, cracks his finger, and then steps over to the keypad. He types in 4387, which Tony remembers just in fucking case, and then he opens the door wide. Tony tries to get his heart to stop beating so goddamn loud in his ears and pushes Justin out of the way, grabbing Peter’s arm and pulling him out of the fucking freezer. The kid looks a little blue and Tony tugs him close, urging Happy and Rhodey out too, pulling them over towards the main door. Tony strips off his own jacket and wraps it around Peter’s shivering form, watching as Happy pushes the freezer door closed angrily. 

“Fuck,” Rhodey says. “That. That fucking sucked.”

“You guys okay?” Tony asks, his eyes darting between them.

“Sucks,” Happy says, glaring over at Justin. “Like he said, fucking—fucking sucks.”

“Kid,” Tony says, bending his knees a little to look into Peter’s eyes. His teeth are chattering and he glares over at Justin too, and he shakes his head. Tony can’t tell if that means _not okay_ or _really pissed off_ , but either way, he hates it. He rubs Peter’s back, scrunches the fabric surrounding him, trying to generate some heat.

“Alright,” Justin says, clapping his hands. “As a very attractive animated man once said, let’s get down to business—”

Tony sees red. He can’t deal with this shit. He maneuvers around Peter, closes the distance between him and Justin by punching him in the face. Again. He doesn’t really think about it, he just sees three of his favorite people in the world freezing and shivering and sorta blacks out, but he doesn’t disagree with his choice. He reels back, rubbing his knuckles, blinking. 

“Jesus!” Justin yelps, falling backwards against the wall. “Again? Again?”

Tony turns, wraps his arm around Peter’s shoulder and motions for the other two to follow. “Let’s get in front of a fire for like twenty minutes—then let’s get the fuck out of this place.”

“Finally, a good fucking decision,” Rhodey says, pushing the main door open. 

They trudge outside and Tony is highly aware of the snow coming down hard, harder than earlier, though all the Frozen Dead Guy idiots are still going at it with all their inane activities. He tugs up Peter’s hood and cranes his neck to check on the kid again, trying not to spiral into a panic. 

“I’m okay,” Peter says, teeth still chattering. “I’m good.”

“Sure you are,” Tony says. He’s shaking way too much for Tony’s liking, and Happy and Rhodey are racing to get out of the cold. Goddamn Justin Hammer.

“We’re—we’re leaving?” Peter asks, leaning into Tony.

“We’re gonna get you guys warmed up, and then we’re leaving,” Tony says. “Sorry I dragged you out here on a bullshit mission, kid.”

“No, it’s—”

“Hey!” Justin’s voice yells, from behind them. “Hey, hey, you pinky-promised me—”

“Yeah, I’ll get back to you tomorrow,” Tony says, realizing the implications of that in relation to all the crap Justin spewed at him. 

“Jesus Christ, Tony!” Justin yells. “You’re a goddamn pain in the ass, you hear me?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Tony says, as they start to cross the street.

“What was he saying to you?” Happy asks. “What was all that?”

“Thought you were gonna choke him to death,” Rhodey says. They pass a group of bundled up kids, all chanting some kind of weird song about _old Bredo._

“Yeah, for your honor,” Tony says. He rubs Peter’s arm when he feels another chill run through him. Tony’s cold as hell without his jacket, but the kid matters more. He picks up the pace a little bit, and doesn’t listen to all of Justin’s exclamations fading into the distance. “I’ll tell you back in the room. Despite the—wide variety of things we’ve witnessed and faced, you’re never gonna believe this.”

~

They make a fire in Tony’s room and he positions Peter directly in front of it, piling at least ten blankets on top of him. He makes all three of them hot chocolate that’s probably way too hot, but they seem grateful. They sit there soaking up the heat and Tony watches them anxiously, horrified that this happened under his watch. Hasn’t he come close to losing them enough goddamn times? He doesn’t know why they stick with him. He’s just glad Pepper isn’t here. If Justin had dropped her goddamn body temperature even one degree, with the condition she’s in, Tony definitely would have killed him.

Once he’s got them situated he collapses on the bed and relays Justin’s ridiculous story. They stare at him from the carpet like kindergartners during story time, and he feels like an imbecile actually repeating these words. This lunatic criminal escaped from prison—somehow—and drew Tony into some kind of insane plot. It’s gotta have more behind it. It can’t actually be what he’s saying.

“Right?” Tony asks. “I mean. This isn’t real.”

Rhodey rolls his eyes, takes another sip from his mug. “What would be his motive for all this?” he asks. “Just to screw with you?”

“No idea,” Tony says.

“Maybe he wants you to help him escape,” Peter says. “You know, get him out of here because he doesn’t feel safe. He could want you to get him off the grid entirely.”

“Could be.”

“Or maybe,” Happy emphasizes, “it’s fucking real. And there’s a time loop. And his dumbass got stuck in it and now he’s gotten us stuck in it too. Because he sucks.”

“No, he’s gotta be luring us into something,” Rhodey says. He looks at Tony. “If he’s in a loop—how did his letters ever really make it to you? Huh? If he says things can get in but not get out.”

“Maybe the loop knows—” Happy starts.

“The loop knows?” Rhodey asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Maybe _the loop knows_ ,” Happy says, louder, “that the letters would bring somebody in, so it allows them to get out so more people would be trapped.”

Tony looks at Peter, whose eyes are darting back and forth between them. He can almost see him trying to build some kind of narrative out of this in his head.

“How did we even manage to make the motel reservation?” Rhodey asks, looking at Tony. “How would they remember it? Or us?”

“Well, the lady did keep saying the wrong date on the phone,” Tony says. “I thought she was just—distracted, high on that mountain air, I don’t know—”

“If his whole story is true, we’re, like…time travelling right now,” Peter says.

 _That_ makes Tony feel a little sick, considering what the hell they’ve gone through to be whole and complete right here in this moment. Peter shakes his head at him and Tony shakes his head back. He definitely doesn’t wanna think about it like that.

“This shit could be why we don’t have any phone service up here,” Happy says, scooting a little closer to the fire. “Because the loop doesn’t want us to.”

“You’re giving the hypothetical loop too many human characteristics,” Rhodey says.

It’s been far too long since Tony’s heard Pepper’s voice and after all this it’s starting to grate on him. He looks at his phone. Still no service, and he stares at that adorable picture of her standing next to his most recent armor, six months pregnant and scowling at the suit. She definitely keeps him centered, keeps him standing, and he pushes himself up and gets to his feet. He ruffles Peter’s hair on the way around the bed and they all look at him with concern in their eyes.

“Where you going?” Happy asks.

“Remain seated,” Tony says, pointing at them. “I’m gonna go see if I can call Pepper from the front desk.”

“Just start screaming if anything happens!” Peter says, eyes a little wild.

“Hammer’s not gonna kidnap me,” Tony says, shaking his head at them. “Either way, I don’t think the three human popsicles are gonna be able to do anything—”

Their faces twist then and they all start yelling, hurling around angry hand motions.

“Um, I can destroy that guy, I _will_ destroy that guy, with or without my webshooters—”

“Listen, you don’t know what I know about Groundhog Day—”

“We’ll demolish him, Tones, we’re pissed enough—”

“Okay, okay,” Tony says, holding his hands up. “You’re all very strong and pissy—I’ll be right back.”

~

The same woman is behind the front desk when he gets there, and he tries to put on his most charming face. He walks over and smiles at her, and she only slightly smiles back. 

“Uh, is there any way I can use your phone?” he asks, trying to make himself sound normal and not desperate. “I’ve got zero service up here and my wife is at home, seven months pregnant—”

“Oh, where are you from?” she asks. 

“We live in New York,” Tony says, nodding. 

“Ohh, seven months in—not the best time to leave her behind!” the woman says.

Defensiveness pops up like a red flag and he clears his throat. “Well, she’s definitely her own woman—runs her own company, grade-A badass, she doesn’t even really need me, I wasn’t planning on—you know what, can I use your phone? Please?”

“I’m sorry, dear,” she says, shaking her head. “Only employees are able to use our phone, our refrigerator in the break room, our dishwasher—”

Annoyance flares up now too. Is he asking to use the goddamn dishwasher? “Not even for my pregnant wife?” he asks, gritting his teeth. 

“So sorry,” she says. 

He stares at her for a second but she doesn’t seem fazed, and he has the inclination to ask if she knows who he is or what he’s done, if she was one of the people that disappeared when the world ended, but he keeps it all in. He taps on the counter a couple times, nodding at her, and knows this is definitely the moment to get the hell out of dodge.

~

They get their things together, and when Tony is adequately sure the others have enough layers on, they load up into the car and head out of town. 

Except fucking Nederland has different ideas. 

“It’s the loop,” Happy says, from the backseat, as they slowly approach what looks like six park rangers and a whole shit ton of snow. 

“Shut up,” Rhodey says.

“Just sayin’.”

Tony turns around, looks at Peter, who seems worried. Jesus, he wishes he hadn’t dragged them here. But this has to be a coincidence, right? There’s no way. There’s no way! It’s just bad weather.

Rhodey rolls down his window, and one of the older looking rangers walks over and bends down to speak to him. 

“Sorry, buddy!” he says. “We got a major road block here. We’re sending for a team, but it probably won’t be cleared until tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” Rhodey asks, deadpan.

“The loop…” Peter mutters.

Tony twists around again, but stares at Happy this time. “Do not influence him,” Tony says.

Happy puts his hands up, tries to look innocent. Tony narrows his eyes at him.

“You sure?” Rhodey asks. “You don’t think it’ll be done, uh—earlier than that, maybe?”

“No can do,” the ranger says. “Tomorrow you can make your break, if that big ole storm doesn’t come and blow us out of the water. But if you head back to town there are tons of festivities going on today—we’ve got the brain freeze tent open, the fix-a-frozen-flat, the frozen t-shirt contest—”

“You guys think you’ll come and let people know when it’s safe to leave?” Tony asks, leaning over so they can see him. He’s completely done and over the word frozen, and he never wants to fucking hear it again.

“We can do that,” the ranger says, nodding happily. “Now go enjoy the fun! Frozen Dead Guy Day!”

Tony’s irritation is bleeding through his pores.

~

They wander back to the goddamn motel rooms, dejected, and it feels like they never left. They put their shit back, make another fire, and Tony outlaws the word _loop_ completely. They sit in relative silence after that, all of them continually checking their phones for the smallest bit of service, but, of course, they have no such luck. Tony’s still paranoid about the kid getting too cold so he wraps him in the comforter off his bed, and he lays on the ground between the two beds, trying to think.

“Why would he want me here?” Tony asks the room. “Just to torture me?”

“So you really think he’s lying?” Happy asks. “That he made up this whole outrageous story.”

“Yes.”

“We know magic’s real, Tones,” Rhodey says.

“Oh, come on, Rhodey, not you too.”

“Just saying.”

Tony digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. “No. Justin Hammer is an idiot and an asshole and he’s also a fucking criminal, an—escapee—seriously, we have every right to make a citizen’s arrest here. But either way—he’s a tech guy, not a magic guy.”

“There’s gotta be something else going on,” Peter says, from under his pile of blankets. “There’s gotta be a reason that he made sure you came here—I mean, if you think the story isn’t true.”

“Exactly,” Tony says. “Whatever he’s doing, he’s endangering the whole town, I know it.” He could have literally anything up his sleeve, and Tony’s seen what he’s capable of. And he won’t help him, whether he tries to trick him into it or not. He sighs to himself. “I think it feels like lunch time,” Tony says, sitting up and cracking his neck. “Or brunch time. Whatever, I’m starving. Let’s find something in this ridiculous town that’s edible and not frozen.”

~

As soon as they step out of the motel again, Justin is there waiting for them. He’s sitting on a bench, half covered in snow, wearing a more substantial jacket than he was wearing earlier, and he’s got a couple butterfly bandages taped haphazardly to the bridge of his nose. Tony feels like he’s gonna be fucking sick when he sees him and he groans, marching right past, grabbing Peter’s arm and dragging him away, too.

“Hey—” Happy starts, but Tony flails his arms wildly, motioning for Rhodey and Happy to follow because they are not going to acknowledge this shit. They’re not, they’re _not_ , they’re going to eat something, walk around, eat dinner, walk around, and then crash and then wake up and then _leave_. And as soon as they’re somewhere with cell service he’s gonna call in the goddamn troops to pick up this asshole and take him back from whence he came. 

“You can’t ignore me!” Justin yells, as soon as Tony manages to get Happy and Rhodey to do exactly that. “I’m just gonna keep going, assholes—well, three assholes and a child, but I’m sure the child is an asshole too because he’s hanging out with _you_ assholes—”

Tony draws in a long breath through his nose, looks at Peter, who’s shaking his head at him. “You guys see anything?” Tony asks. “Other than the dumbass dead guy stuff? A normal restaurant anywhere?”

“There’s a nice pizzeria on third,” Justin says, and he sounds like he’s getting closer. Definitely following them. “They’re gonna run out of pepperoni in an hour so we’d have to get over there quick.”

Tony walks faster. “Who hates pizza? All of us.”

Peter narrows his eyes. “Hmmm—”

“Nope. You hate it.”

They quickly start to cross the road, and Tony can hear Justin’s footfalls behind them. He doesn’t look. 

“There’s a deli on third, too, but their goddamn roast beef is expired or something…God, I’ve never shit like that—”

“Okay,” Rhodey says, turning around. “Listen, man—”

“Nope, do not engage,” Tony says, taking Rhodey’s forearm and trying to make him keep walking.

Justin laughs, and Rhodey practically hisses at Tony even though he does catch up to him. “We can’t keep ignoring him, he’s _following us_.”

“Remember when he bowled us into a fucking freezer earlier, Tony?” Happy asks.

“Oh, too well.”

“I feel like we’re not talking enough about that. Or doing nearly enough punching in regards to that.”

“Watch out, that red car’s gonna go up on the curb,” Justin says. 

Tony scoffs and they walk out into the street, but he hears a squeal when they’re out in the middle—he twists around, walking backwards, and sees a red car jump a little into the air as it rides over the curb. It quickly corrects itself and speeds off around the corner, narrowly avoiding hitting a couple people who look like they were in the costume contest earlier. Tony and the others stop, briefly, to look at Justin, who has a little too much satisfaction on his face for Tony’s liking. 

He must have seen that car driving dangerously earlier.

They keep walking.

“There’s also a place called the Roasted Toad, but Gina and her husband Eric are in there, drunk— _already_ —and they’re about to have one of their blowups—the mashed potatoes are not worth that show, lemme tell ya—”

Justin’s definitely good at making shit up on the fly, Tony’ll give him that. They get to the other side of the road and he hooks a left, away from the theater where the fucking ice sculptures are still being built, and he sees a little diner just around the bend. “Diner!” Tony says. “Rhodey, you love diner food.”

“Perfect,” Happy says.

“As long as I can get some kinda ham sandwich, I’m good,” Rhodey says, trying to nonchalantly look back at Justin. Tony doesn’t know how long they can go pretending he’s not there, or how long he himself can go without punching the guy in the face again, especially if he keeps fucking following them. 

“C’mon, Pete,” Tony says. 

“We need to do something about this guy,” Peter says, in a hush, close to Tony’s ear. “He’s gonna try something again—”

Tony hurries them up a bit, surpassing the other two as they head up the ramp to the diner, and he can see Justin moving quickly out of the corner of his eye, like a goddamn little cockroach. “Listen, he caught me off guard last time, but I’m not gonna let him do anything to you again—”

“I’m worried about you,” Peter says, his eyes wide and frantic as Tony pushes the door open, the bell above them ringing. “It’s about you, he’s trying to—he didn’t even know we’d be here, the whole freezer thing was leverage, for you.”

“I’ll be fine, bud,” Tony says, squeezing Peter’s shoulder. He turns to the woman standing there with menus, and sees she’s got icicle earrings on. “Uh, four.”

“Right this way,” she says. 

“And then you’ve got one!” Justin yells, as Rhodey fails to pull the door closed before he gets in. “And I have a very specific place I want to sit!”

“Jesus Christ,” Happy mutters. 

“We’re gonna have to kill this guy,” Rhodey says, as they walk away from him.

“Tempting, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Tony says. 

Pretty much everyone in the diner is in some kind of costume for the dead guy bullshit, and they’re the ones that look like the odd man out. Tony doesn’t know how to face this—that’s not normal, for him. Usually, he’ll be able to form a plan, put it into action, solve the problem, but the last time he was this struck—it was Thanos. The first time. The dusty time. And then he needed everyone—everyone that was left—to pick up the pieces of his broken heart and help him reset the world. Justin Hammer isn’t anything like the late grape, and Tony hates that he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on here or how to deal with it, how to stop it. If the goddamn road hadn’t been blocked, they’d be on their way out by now. 

Tony scoots into one side of their selected booth and Peter scoots in beside him, Happy and Rhodey on the other side. Tony follows their gaze, Rhodey’s angry eyes as Justin, apparently, sits down right behind him. They all take off their coats, and Tony balls his up in his lap.

The waitress puts their menus down in front of them and starts talking. Tony hears Justin recite her speech right along with her. 

“Welcome to Ned’s Diner,” they both say, Justin’s voice a little lower but he’s so close to the back of Tony’s head that he can hear everything he’s saying. “We’ve got breakfast all day long, in case you’ve got a hankering for pancakes, we’ve got the best blueberry in town, and our specials today are the clam chowder and the tuna melt, as well as—”

She pauses. Justin pauses too. Then he whispers, “oh, wait.”

Tony’s heart is beating way too fast for goddamn ordering lunch. Brunch. Whatever.

“Oh, wait,” the waitress says, and Justin picks up speaking too. “We’re out of chowder. So we’re on to the minestrone, for…for the special.” She sighs. Justin sighs. “Can I get everybody a round of waters?”

“Do you have, uh, alcohol?” Happy asks, his hands spread out on his placemat. 

“They’ve got Stella and Budweiser,” Justin says, too loud. “But they probably ran out of Bud like an hour ago because Michael made his way through here, right?”

The waitress narrows her eyes at him, and looks at them again. “Uh—we’re gonna get another shipment tomorrow.”

“One Stella, for him,” Tony says, pointing at Happy. “Waters for the rest, and this man is not with us.” 

She nods at them, looks at Justin again like he’s some sort of demon, and then she walks away. Tony can’t take it anymore—he _knows_ Justin is a goddamn demon—and he twists around, realizing that idiot is a lot closer than Tony is comfortable with. He’d prefer a whole continent between them. Or a whole planet.

“You are breaking a pinky promise,” Justin says, before Tony can say anything, his chin held high.

“Oh, sorry, I pinky promised myself I’d never make a real promise to someone that’s tried to murder me.”

“Please,” Justin says, waving his hand through the air. “That was all beefcake’s doing, I was just—”

“Spare me,” Tony says. “You had the fucking nerve—”

“We don’t know you’re telling the truth,” Peter says, abruptly. He twists the hem of his jacket in his hands. “About this loop—story. You could be lying and trying to get Tony to do something that would get him killed and that—that—that’s not cool with me.”

Tony’s heart goes a little warm.

“That’s right, you dumb asshole,” Happy says.

“Not cool with any of us,” Rhodey says. “So my plan is to knock the shit out of you right here—”

“Wow, if I had known you’d bring your personal security team—is this—is this your son? Long lost? I knew you probably had a couple little bastards stowed away around the world—”

Tony’s anger flares up again, but Peter starts talking before Tony can start cursing.

“Just tell us the truth,” Peter says, and Tony doesn’t think he’s ever heard that much venom in his voice. He wishes the kid wasn’t so good, sometimes. Tony doesn’t think Justin has one inch of truth-telling in him, and Peter’s only gonna be disappointed. 

Justin sighs again, and looks around. He points at an older woman at the bar, wearing a long, stained white dress. Tony can’t tell if it’s a costume or not. “Patty over there is about to get her strawberry milkshake—but she’s gonna spill it almost immediately. First sip. Watch.”

Tony narrows his eyes, but it doesn’t take as long as he expected it to. The waiter comes over, sets what’s definitely a strawberry milkshake down in front of the woman. She nods at him, he walks away, and on her very first sip she tips the glass a little too far towards her, and a big glop slips out and lands in her lap.

“Huh,” Rhodey grunts. 

“I mean,” Tony says. “That’s an easy guess. She looks like—the type.”

“Ring ring,” Justin says.

The bell at the door rings. They all turn to look.

“Jesus Christ, Martha,” Justin says, smacking Tony on the shoulder. 

“Jesus Christ, Martha,” the guy at the door says, shaking snow off his jacket. 

“How many times are you gonna forget your wallet?” Justin says.

“How many times are you gonna forget your wallet?” the man asks, as who Tony assumes is Martha scowls at him.

“Okay, Tony,” Happy says. “The loop is real. Or he’s a mind reader.”

Tony turns to glare at him, but Happy is already making that face that means he’s solid in his beliefs. “Nope,” Tony says. “He’s doing this somehow. With some kind of tech.”

“No tech. I’m telling the truth, bozos,” Justin says. “Why the hell would I make something like this up? What would I gain from that? Back door—two kids in red jackets—they’re about to open it. Kinda gonna look like they’re sneaking around.”

It happens like clockwork—two little boys open the back door slowly, only a crack, and look around like they’re hiding from someone. They slip inside and sit in the closest booth to the door, and, of course, they’re wearing matching red jackets.

“Okay,” Tony says, rubbing his temples. “Doesn’t matter.”

“They’re about to change the radio station— _stars shining bright above you_ —”

Tony feels like he’s in a fucking cartoon because all of them look to watch the waiter switch the old radio over to something else, and then Mama Cass starts crooning, significantly better than Justin is. 

“ _Stars shining bright above you—_ ”

“ _—night breezes seem to whisper—_ ”

“ _—I love you—_ ”

“Stop singing,” Tony says, his brain preparing to explode. “Stop singing now.”

“My ex says I have a beautiful singing voice,” Justin says, sounding offended. 

“She’s lying,” Rhodey spits out.

Justin sighs. “I’m doing all this because I know all this. Like the back of my hand. I’ve gone through this town over and over and over. Constantly. Shit, it’s been like three months. We’ve been stuck on the same day for three goddamn months. We’re three months behind the rest of the world—I’ve been all over this place, I’ve done and seen everything, I know everybody’s names—”

Tony can’t take it anymore. He turns and faces Justin head-on. “I don’t believe you for a second. I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, why the hell you had to involve me, why the hell I was stupid enough to come trekking up here with three of my favorite people on the planet to get them involved in whatever insane, likely deadly scheme you’ve fucking come up with—but I want no part in it.”

“Tony, now—”

“No, asshole,” Tony says, anger boiling all over him. “It hasn’t even been a year yet. Since all that shit happened, since—since—” He sees the red, barren wasteland of Titan. He sees dust in the air. He hears Peter’s voice, broken and wasting away. _I’m sorry_. He sees a world torn in two, a world they barely saved. A reality they barely changed. He takes a quick look at Peter and remembers the time when he wasn’t there, when he was gone, when half the goddamn universe was gone. How every move he made felt like agony because they’d lost. Because, for a while, they had to live in that loss because they didn’t know how to reverse it. And he knows how close he came, how close Steve and Thor and Bruce and every fucking body who was left behind came to dying. Fighting for the people they loved.

They’ve been living in a tranquil little whatever since everything settled, since Tony got the sling off and Steve could see again and Sam could walk without worrying. The scars are still there, for all of them, even under the surface, and sometimes Tony’s worry and fear threatens to eat him alive. He can’t lose anybody, not again—not Pepper back home, not these people here at the table with him, not any member of his team, and that includes all the honorary members too, a certain group of morons, a certain wizard, a certain pair of bugs, a certain Black Panther and his whole damn family. 

Tony can’t take this shit anymore. Not after what they’ve been through. He won’t tolerate one more close call—especially not at the hands of Justin Hammer. 

He tries to formulate his thoughts. “Since we took care of that big purple dickhead,” he says. “We’ve been through a lot. All of us. I lost this kid, I had to get him back—and now I’ve got him back and I don’t wanna lose him again, not because of whatever the hell you’ve got up your sleeve. I’ve got a pregnant wife at home—”

“Yeah, and you’ll never see her again if you don’t help me,” Justin says, all teasing and mirth out of his face now. “You’re in this now. I don’t care if you don’t believe me. If you don’t start working on this shit now—as in right now—you’re gonna forget everything tomorrow morning.” He shakes his head, and looks at Peter. “I disappeared too, little man. Right in the middle of my fucking jail cell. I know what you went through, in that place. The listlessness. It felt like decades, huh? Well when I fucking materialized back in prison, I knew I had to get out, had to—actually experience life—so I got my ex to help me, she brought me here, and now I’m stuck in another kind of hell. I guess you might call it karma.” He looks at Tony again. “Whatever the hell you call it, you’re in it now. So if you’re gonna put your lovely—Stark stubbornness into action, well—I’ll try again tomorrow.” He shakes his head at them and gets up, walking away and towards the door.

Of course, he stops there and turns around. “Watch out for the green Chevy, it’s gonna backfire later on tonight and give this old lady a heart attack outside the boxcar bar, people come rushing over, it’s a big thing—don’t get trampled. Uh—stay out of the brain freeze tent, the nuts are contaminated, don’t want you having diarrhea—um—the General store is gonna close early tonight because they’re understaffed, so if you need anything, get in before seven.” He points at them, and then leaves.

The waitress comes over and sets down their waters and Hap’s beer. Tony twists around and dips his head into his hands. 

“Uh,” Peter says, presumably to the waitress. “Can we have another minute?”

~

They have a reasonably good lunch. His tuna sandwich is pretty good. Peter likes his chicken tenders. Happy has two beers. Rhodey keeps staring at Tony and Tony doesn’t acknowledge it. They walk around town, seek out the Carousel of Happiness, and ride it for what feels like an hour. The four of them are the only ones.

Tony goes up and down on an ancient-looking deer and contemplates his fucking life. He’s had a lot of shit happen to him. They all have. He’s gotta figure out what Justin is planning, what kind of weapons he’s stashed here, how he’s playing with their heads. He’s doing something dangerous, and he’s trying to distract them from it.

“Well, I mean,” Happy says, sitting on the rabid looking rabbit in front of Tony, “I guess, the bright side is—if this is really happening—we’ll always think it’s the first day. So it won’t be like…we’re stuck like him.”

“It’s not happening,” Tony says, holding onto the deer’s antlers. “Tomorrow is gonna be—tomorrow—and we’re gonna leave. And get Justin arrested for being a dickhead. Among other things.” He sighs, shaking his head. He wishes he knew what the hell this asshole was up to.

“Tony,” Peter asks. He’s beside him on what looks like a flamingo, Tony isn’t sure. “You, uh—you okay?”

“Yup,” Tony says, trying to brighten up, because he doesn’t want the kid worrying about him. “Just—three more go arounds on this thing, I’ll be good.”

~

They haunt the Frozen Dead Guy events because there’s nothing else to do, because the goddamn road is still blocked. They check. Three times. They go into the library and try to go on the internet, but Justin was right about the speeds, and the e-mails not going through, bouncing right back as unsendable. Tony tries not to have a panic attack. They don’t go anywhere near the General store or the brain freeze tent, because Tony doesn’t want to see anything else Justin said come true, but they do hear about the woman having the heart attack by the boxcar bar.

“I still think it’s a trick,” Tony says, as they walk back to the motel from dinner. “Maybe he’s time traveling. We know that’s possible.”

“Shit, he shouldn’t have the technology,” Rhodey says. 

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t,” Tony says. “It’s a cover for something. Don’t know what.” He’s imagining all kinds of bad shit.

“I keep expecting him to pop back up again,” Peter says, looking around as they walk into the lobby. 

“If you see him, punch him in the face,” Tony mutters. “Hap, can you take him back to the room? We’re gonna do the thing.”

“Okay, remember, start screaming if you need help,” Happy says.

“We’ll be there.”

“Okay, guys, I’ve got this,” Rhodey says, holding up his hands. “I can flirt with a lady.”

“A robot mountain lady,” Tony whispers, peeking around the corner. She’s there. “Okay, go,” Tony says, motioning to Rhodey. “I’ll hide over here. Is the key phrase still ‘brain freeze tent’?”

“God, I guess,” Rhodey says. Tony holds his thumb up and nods, shooing Happy and Peter in the other direction down the hall. Happy rolls his eyes at him, but Peter still looks concerned, and Tony bets he’s regretting their snowy vacation right about now. Tony waves at them and watches as they disappear down the hallway, and he listens out for Rhodey’s weird flirting, hoping this will actually work. He half expects to see Justin waltzing up back in here, and he watches the door just in case. But the asshole never comes.

“Oh yeah,” Rhodey’s voice says. “We spent—way too much time in the brain freeze tent—”

Tony moves fast around the corner, bending and keeping low to the ground, and he sees that Rhodey somehow got the woman out from behind the desk and close to the fire. Tony quickly moves where they can’t see him, and looks at the desk—no phone. Probably better, they’d definitely be able to hear him there, and he keeps going into the back room. There’s no one else there, and he sees a modest little desk in the corner, a phone sitting on top of it next to a couple folders.

He rushes over, quickly taking a seat and dialing Pepper’s number. He hopes Rhodey can hold up this façade for long enough to sustain a small conversation, and he listens to the phone ring once, twice before she picks up.

“Hello?”

God, it’s so good to hear her voice.

“Babe, it’s me.”

“Tony? Jesus, I thought you’d never call.”

“Service up here is shit,” he says, looking over his shoulder. “Holding up a heist right now with Rhodey to actually make this call. Distracting the crazy desk lady at the motel.”

“What? Why—”

“Listen, I don’t have a whole lot of time, I’m gonna try again tomorrow somewhere else—” Tomorrow. He thinks about Justin. The whole situation. All this bullshit, and he doesn’t know what to tell her. It could be nothing. It probably is nothing. But he’s got no idea, and with the way this place is, he feels like he needs to give her some peace of mind. “Uh, tribute to dad was a bust, but that cold dead guy festival is going on—I guess they rescheduled it, or they’re having it again or something—so maybe that’s what the invite was referring to.”

“What the hell, really? You went all that way for nothing?”

“Yeah, so I think we’re gonna stay a couple days, Pete’s interested in getting better with his skiing so we’re gonna try to make the best of it. You cool with that?”

“Of course,” she says. “I know you can make it fun.”

“Fun’s my middle name,” he says. 

“Well keep me updated.”

“Duh,” he says, anxious to figure out how he’s gonna do that. God, he misses her. It hasn’t been that long, but every moment away from her feels like a lifetime. He’s a stupid sap for the people he loves. “Everything okay there with you?”

“I bought that pillow I wanted,” she says. “So I’m definitely fifty percent happier with the sleeping situation.”

“Great,” he says, smiling to himself. “That’s a good number.”

“I think so,” she says, sounding proud. 

“I love you. Tell the little girl Daddy misses her.”

“I love you too. Don’t worry, I’m constantly reminding her you exist.”

“Good, she needs to know.”

Pepper snorts. “Sleep well, honey.”

“You too.”

They hang up and Tony listens anxiously for a second. For the sounds of Rhodey’s conversation, for the beating of his own heart. He can hear Rhodey still talking and he takes a breath, bending down and scurrying out the way he came. He takes a quick look at Rhodey when he passes by, putting his thumbs up, and then he takes off running as quietly as he can just in case the woman follows Rhodey’s gaze.

He turns the corner into their hallway and sees Peter standing there waiting for him at the door.

“Did you get to talk to her?” Peter asks, holding the door open a little wider.

“Yup,” Tony says, ruffling his hair as he walks in.

~

Rhodey gets stuck out there for another ten minutes talking about the pros and cons of Frozen Dead Guy Day, and a little while later they’re all standing in Tony and Peter’s room staring at each other, because they’re getting ready to go to bed and Happy’s been quietly hyping up the loop theory. Tony wishes he would stop. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” Tony says, sitting on the edge of his bed. “We’re gonna wake up, the roads aren’t gonna be blocked anymore, then we’re gonna get the hell out and go home. Simple. Then we’ll call the FBI and get them to search the town for whatever Justin’s got going.”

“Right,” Happy says. “And if we are stuck in the loop, we won’t know—”

“No loop talk, please,” Tony says.

“Okay,” Rhodey says, with a sigh. “Uh—just wake us up when you wake up. We’re not gonna set an alarm, that thing is still unplugged.”

Tony looks at their alarm clock. “Uh, same,” he says. “So whoever wakes up first wakes the others.”

“If it’s me, nobody yell at me,” Peter says, pointing around at them. 

“C’mon, kid, that was one time,” Happy says.

“Okay, nobody yell at Peter,” Tony says. “And…break. Bedtime. We all need it. We’re gonna wake up to lots of normalcy tomorrow!”

“Goodnight,” both Happy and Rhodey say, shuffling into their adjoining room and shutting the door behind them. 

Peter sighs, getting under the covers. Tony walks over and makes sure the door is locked, and then turns off the overhead lights, only the bedside lamp staying on.

“You brush your teeth, bud?” Tony asks. “You’re wearing your jacket to bed like we talked about, right?”

“Yes, dad,” Peter says, scooting a little further into his blanket nest so Tony can barely see his face. “To both. I’m wearing the warmer pajamas tonight because I wanna be warm forever.”

Tony shakes his head, walking back over and getting into his own bed. He turns off the lamp, lays down, and stares up at the wood paneling on the ceiling. 

“Are you worried?” Peter’s voice asks.

“No,” Tony says, fast. “No. Nope.”

“So definitely yes.”

Tony sighs. “I’m worried in the same way that you’re worried about going to college.”

Peter hums a little to himself. “I’m…I’m not.”

“Sure, sure, sure,” Tony says. He shifts onto his side and looks at Peter. “Once we’re not preoccupied with Hammer’s schemes, we’re gonna discuss every single detail about college. Coming from a guy who ran that campus.”

Peter snorts. “Okay. But I’m not—I’m not worried.”

“Okay, tough guy,” Tony says. 

“Goodnight, Tony,” Peter says. “I hope we’re not in a time loop.”

“We’re not,” Tony says. “We’re definitely…definitely not.”

~

_So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me_  
_SOS_  
_The love you gave me, nothing else can save me_  
_SOS_

Tony’s eyes snap open. He hears Peter groaning and shifting and Tony grips his pillow tight, with the inclination to cover his ear with it. But he doesn’t move, and the song continues to waft through the air. Tony’s heart is beating way too hard. 

“I don’t even remember you setting an alarm,” Peter says, wiping his eyes.

“Me?” Tony asks, clearing his throat. “Shit, kid, funny joke—and same song too?”

Peter groans. “Same song as what?”

“As yesterday,” Tony says. “How the hell did you manage that?”

_When you're gone_  
_How can I even try to go on?_  
_When you're gone_  
_Though I try how can I carry on?_

He reaches over and takes the thing in his hands, turning it over like he remembers doing yesterday, and he turns it off. 

Peter rolls onto his back. “God, I forgot where we were for a second there.”

Tony looks over at him, a chill running down his spine. He said that shit yesterday. And the thing about not remembering he set an alarm.

“Peter,” Tony says, slowly. “Are you wearing your jacket?”

“No,” Peter says. “But I probably should be. The heat isn’t too hot in this place.”

Okay. Don’t panic. He can’t panic. He needs to not panic. This isn’t how this shit works. If they were in a loop he wouldn’t remember anything about yesterday. Justin is the only one that can remember. Everyone else can’t. So if they were looping, he wouldn’t remember. Simple. This is a prank, the kid is pranking him. The loop isn’t real. It’s not real.

“You’re not wearing your warm pajamas?” Tony asks, tentatively. 

Peter narrows his eyes at him. “How do you even know I packed those? I definitely should have worn them…”

“So you changed in the middle of the night, huh?” Tony asks, cocking his head. “You did the thing with the radio, the song, changed your clothes—funny joke, weirdo.”

Peter keeps staring, like Tony’s grown an extra limb or something. “Did you, like…sleep bad? You still dreaming?”

The muffled lyrics of Cher’s _Believe_ come through the joined wall and it sounds like a harbinger of the apocalypse. Tony looks up at the wall, hears Happy and Rhodey stirring and bitching at each other, and then he looks at Peter.

“What?” Peter says. 

“You got them in on it?” Tony asks.

Peter actually looks concerned now, the little shit, and he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “What’s going on?” he asks.

Tony stares at him. And stares and stares. He doesn’t feel like he’s in a time loop. Because he can’t be. It’s not real. He looks down at himself—he’s wearing the same pajamas he was wearing last night. But he only brought one pair of pajamas. That isn’t a goddamn clue. He needs a clue. Peter isn’t budging. Tony gets to his feet, eyeing the kid, and walks around the bed. “Alright, get up. Get dressed.”

Peter watches him, and then he cracks his neck. “Fine, bossy.”

Tony whips around to look at him, and then the door opens. The music gets louder and Happy steps inside, wearing those goddamn striped pajamas. Tony stares at him. Peter stares too.

“Morning,” Tony says. 

“Uh, yeah,” Happy says. “Any idea how to turn off the death machine? First breaking that stupid glass, now this. I do not believe in life after love.”

Tony sways with the weight of that horrible, familiar sentence. “This isn’t funny. None of it is funny. A failed joke.”

“It’s too early for jokes,” Happy says, with a sigh. “This goddamn alarm clock—”

“Listen, time loop!” Tony yells. “Hilarious! You guys are hilarious. Making me feel crazy is the best part, don’t know how you coordinated it, considering we have no service, which leads me to believe you all were creeping around while I was sleeping.”

Happy looks at Peter, points at Tony. “What’s he talking about?”

“Hah _hah_ ,” Tony enunciates. “I’m not gonna acknowledge what you’re doing—turn off the alarm clock.”

“We don’t know _how_ ,” Rhodey says, sticking his head in the door. “How’d you get yours off? We heard ABBA.”

Tony stares at them. Usually Peter would be snickering this deep into a joke. And Happy’s expressions always give him away. Rhodey is stone cold so Tony doesn’t really focus on him, but the other two—they’re bad at this. But they’re not giving anything away. 

“Tony turned it off,” Peter says. “I, uh—I don’t know, he seemed to know how.”

“Tones, c’mon,” Rhodey says. “Do you really like Cher this much?”

Tony keeps staring. Waiting and watching. His mind feels like an old car engine, sputtering and stopping, unable to go over this hump in the road. He starts moving before he thinks about it, marching between Rhodey and Happy and making for their alarm clock, wincing against how loud Cher is yelling at them. He quickly turns it over, opens the little trap door and turns the thing off, silence flooding in. He puts it back down and straightens out, tonguing the corner of his mouth. 

“Thanks,” Happy says. “What’s going on with you?”

Tony walks back into his own room, feeling like he’s traipsing through a dream or something along those lines. He’s on the verge of something—panic, probably—and he looks around at them.

“We’re not—playing a joke on me?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“What kind of joke?” Rhodey asks, shaking his head. “The fact that we flew out to this frozen little mountain town for some award for your dad? Because I mean, it is—”

“Stop,” Tony says, holding out his hands. “Yesterday. Describe yesterday to me.”

They all look at him with deep concern in their eyes now, which he has no time for, and he shakes his head and his hands and tries to ward them off that line of thinking. “I’m fine. I’m fine, tell me what yesterday was to you.”

“Long plane ride, shitty delays,” Happy says. 

“Rhodey being a really good driver,” Peter says.

“Thanks kid.”

Tony rubs his chest. He looks down at his feet. He really feels like they would have told him if this was a goddamn joke at this point. He looks around—there’s really no way to tell anything from the way the room looks, they put all their shit in the same place when they got back here after their failed escape. Peter’s clothes are the biggest indicator. Tony knows he was wearing his jacket and a completely different pair of sweats and a long sleeved shirt. Tony tries to look at the fireplace, tries to imagine what the logs looked like last night when they put out the fire—but even his memory isn’t that good.

“Tony,” Rhodey says, approaching him. “You alright? You need something?”

Peter looks nervous. “We can skip the award ceremony if you’re not feeling—”

Tony covers his face with his hands. “No, no, no,” he mutters. “No, this isn’t happening.”

“Tony—”

“You think you’re gonna be sick?”

“Justin Hammer!” Tony exclaims, letting his hands slide away. “Justin. Hammer.”

They all stare at him. The rest of his words won’t come. He just looks insane, fucking randomly yelling about Justin Hammer. He doesn’t know what he’s thinking, he just turns and rushes out the front door and into the hallway.

The maid from yesterday comes out of a door across the hall and gives him a smile. “You need anything, honey? I’ve got extra mints in my cart!” She pulls it out of the room and gestures towards it for emphasis. 

Jesus Christ. He remembers that too. He shakes his head at her and keeps stomping down the hallway, unsure that what he’s looking for is gonna be here yet, or at all. He knows he’s in his pajamas and he can already feel the cold seeping through the walls, and when he turns into the main foyer he sees Justin goddam Hammer walking through the door.

Justin’s face falls when he sees him, and he looks confused. The butterfly bandages from yesterday are gone. Tony’s first inclination is to punch him in his stupid idiot face, but then he thinks better of it.

“Is this fucking yesterday?” Tony asks. “Am I in the loop? Don’t lie to me. Don’t you goddamn dare lie to me.”

“Holy shit,” Justin says. A grin spreads across his face and makes Tony rethink the whole not punching him thing. “Holy _shit_ do you remember? Do they remember too? Holy shit.”

“Holy shit, no, they don’t—ugh, Jesus,” Tony says, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my god, no.” He feels sick. He feels sick, he feels sick, he’s gonna keel over.

“ _You_ are in it with me!” Justin says, pointing at him. “Frozen Dead Guy Day forever! Justin and Tony! J and T!”

Tony does punch him then, knocking him backwards. Justin grabs hold of his nose and laughs raggedly, looking up at him. “Oh man,” he says. “Wonder how many times you’re gonna do that. Worth it, though.”

Tony feels like he’s gonna fucking throw up. The other three don’t know. They don’t remember. He’s trapped here, in fucking Nederland, away from Pepper and with _Justin_ —in a goddamn time loop. This can’t be happening, it can’t be happening, not to him, not after everything he’s fucking been though.

“How did you do this?” Tony groans, his heart raging in his chest. “How the hell did you do this to me?”

Justin straightens up, wiping some blood away from his nose. “I didn’t do _shit_ unless you mean praying hard as hell not to be alone anymore—it’s fate, it’s Jesus, it’s the best thing that happened to me in—shit, a long fucking time. Now you’ve _gotta_ help me!”

Tony can’t think, he can’t fucking breathe, he’s gonna have a panic attack. He looks at Justin again. “Three months? You’ve been in this for three months?”

“An eternity,” Justin says. 

“Uh,” Peter’s voice says. “What’s—what’s going on?”

Tony turns to look, sees the three of them standing there at the mouth of the hallway. “Uh, yeah, that is the question, isn’t it?” he says, and mentally curses himself for fucking repeating what he said yesterday. 

“I’m gonna call the goddamn police,” Rhodey says. 

Justin laughs loudly, sniffling. “Tell ‘em, buddy. Tell ‘em you’re in it now. They’re trapped in their little trapped bubble and you’re trapped too but you’re gonna remember every single second of it. Talk about motivation.”

Tony tries not to pass out. He tries to gear up. Maybe they just have some serious—amnesia—no, he can’t fucking lie to himself. 

“I’m in it now,” he says, shaking his head, listening to Justin laugh again. 

He feels lost. Like he failed somehow. He’s in it. He’s trapped, and he knows it. He’ll remember every goddamn second of it, and the only person who remembers too is _Justin. Hammer._

Tony’s in the goddamn loop.


	2. how can I even try to go on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for **TEMPORARY CHARACTER DEATH/SUICIDE**
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me and waiting a month for this next chapter. It was kicking my ass to begin with, and then my computer took a dive and I had to spend a lot of money to save it and get the story back. But that just made my drive to finish it even more intense. So let me know what you think please! And one more chapter to go after this!

They’re in the pizzeria now. Tony has a pile of pepperonis on a plate in front of him, and instead of eating the calzone or whatever the hell Happy ordered for him, he just keeps staring at the pepperonis. Justin is jabbering on and on, about God-knows-what—they already explained the whole thing in the lobby, walking out of the lobby, in the hallway, through the damn door when they were putting on street clothes as opposed to pajamas.

Tony tugs the plate of pepperonis closer to him. He blinks, staring at the pile, and then he looks at Justin. “Jesus Christ,” he says, in a moment of realization. 

Justin narrows his eyes at him. “No, Justin Hammer.”

“Was I the one that made the pepperonis run out?” Tony asks. 

Justin snorts. “No, this is your first loop, I swear,” he laughs. “I thought about making that joke like—oh Tony you’ve been stuck for fifty years!—but I couldn’t hold it up, I’m too excited about you finally riding the train with me.”

Tony sighs, hanging his head. “Fucking hate you.”

“So are you gonna, like…” Peter trails off, looking anxiously at Tony and the plates in front of him, “uh…keep the pepperonis?”

“Yes,” Tony says, tugging the plate even closer to him. He doesn’t know why he’s getting all territorial about the pepperonis. He’s probably losing his mind.

“So…I don’t get it,” Happy says, exchanging a glance with Rhodey. “We’re all in the time loop?”

“The whole town,” Justin says, getting crumbs all over.

“And you didn’t cause it,” Rhodey says.

“Fuck no,” Justin says. “Jesus, why the hell would I do that to myself?”

“Why the hell do you do anything?” Happy scowls at him. 

“We’re all stuck in the loop,” Tony pipes in, before he’s got a cockfight on his hands. “Except—for some—horrific, awful—goddamn reason, Justin and I can—remember. We did this day yesterday. Frozen Dead Guy Day, waking up to Cher and ABBA—”

“—and you were the award ceremony?” Peter asks, looking at Justin.

“Yeah, he was, the big asshole liar,” Tony says, glaring at him.

“And the day’s been repeating for months now,” Peter says, looking back and forth between Tony and Justin. 

Another horror. “Yeah,” Tony says. “You said something about time traveling yesterday when you first heard about this, and you were kinda—”

“It’s fucking January here,” Justin laughs. “Apparently it’s near the end of March out in the real world? Insane.”

Happy groans. “Jesus, I feel sick.”

“So you’re stuck?” Peter asks. “Well, you’re stuck and you can remember being stuck but tomorrow, uh, the three of us and the rest of the town, we’ll—we’ll—just reset?”

“Bingo,” Justin says. 

Tony hates the way that sounds. They’re quiet. Rhodey takes a sip of his water, looking down at the table. Happy is staring hard at Justin. Peter looks nervous, upset, his eyes darting back and forth. He takes a few gulping breaths that he seems to be trying to hide, and he shakes his head.

Strangely enough, his blatant worry calms Tony. Gives him something to focus on instead of his own seething anger and paranoia. He’s gotta focus—for them, not for himself. For Pepper and for She-who-has-yet-to-be-named. He cannot miss the birth of his first child, no way, not because of Justin Hammer’s goddamn antics. Tony’s beaten a Titan, he can take down a time loop. Even though he wishes he had the rest of the team here to help him deal with this, he’s got three of the smartest people he knows. 

He reaches out and puts his hand over Peter’s wrist. “Relax,” he says. 

Peter meets his eyes. “You’re not worried?”

Tony eats a pepperoni. He eats two. “Does that look worried?” He pushes the plate to the middle of the table. “It’s gonna be fine—we’re gonna figure it out.” He doesn’t know if he’s bullshitting, he might be, and he is fucking worried. But he’s not gonna let Recently Resurrected Peter know that, not if he can help it.

He tries to formulate a plan in his head. He works better under deadlines, always likes to rebel against them and try to beat them, and this feels the perfect situation for some rebelling. Two weeks. He visualizes the words, the timeline, and sets it in stone. Two weeks, that’s all he’s giving himself.

He looks over at Justin, who’s still eating like a small toddler. Tony narrows his eyes, disgusted. “Hey, jackass,” he says. Justin looks up, clearly used to that moniker being used in reference to him. “You know where we can use a phone and not be bothered about it? We had to go with a whole elaborate ruse with the front desk lady and I’m not about that life. Didn’t see any pay phones anywhere.”

Justin nods, his mouth full. He sucks on each of his fingers and Rhodey groans, looking away. Tony eats a couple more pepperonis to keep from looking at him, handing one to Peter, too.

“Yup, yup, I do,” Justin says. “Back at the theater.”

“The place where you locked us in the freezer?” Happy asks, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah, I remember that part of the story real well.”

Justin scoffs. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do that again.”

Tony shares a look with them. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Rhodey glare this much, and that’s saying something. “Uh, yeah,” Tony says, looking at Justin. “Because if you did—”

“You’d kill me,” Justin says, nodding at him. “I know. Bit of a pain in the ass to deal with death, though, even if it is just for one day. Grab some to-go boxes, huh? I’m gonna run to the little boy’s room.”

Tony doesn’t even wanna think about what the fuck Justin’s gotten up to being stuck in this place for this long. 

“We should call in the other Avengers,” Rhodey says. “We’re in over our heads here.”

“They’d probably just forget too,” Peter says.

“Then why you?” Happy asks, throwing out his hands. “Why do you remember? Why him? Why not us? Or anyone else.”

“No idea,” Tony says, eating another pepperoni. “Karma, for all my sins. God. C’mon, kid. I’m bringing you to that phone so you can call May and tell her that this trip is gonna take up your whole spring break.” So she doesn’t worry too much. So she doesn’t think Tony goddamn kidnapped her nephew.

Tony knows he’s gonna have to tell Pepper, at some point. He’s flown off for days at a time before without her worrying, but it’s different now, and this is dangerous.

Two weeks. That’s pushing it. But he’s gotta get it done in two weeks.

~

Tony can hear Peter talking to May in the office and the guilt nearly overwhelms him. He sinks down a little into the cracked leather of his chair and sighs. The four of them are sitting in the back row of a dilapidated little theater—the rest of the building they didn’t get to see yesterday when Justin made his freezer mistake.

“So what would happen, say,” Happy muses, looking at Justin, “if we called Captain America in here? Other than him knocking you to kingdom come for dragging us into this whole mess?”

“Like I said before, I’ve seen plenty of new people come into town,” Justin says. “But it’s all very particular—they usually come at night, so they can get a room. And then the next day—their first full day—that’s the start of their loop. They’re absorbed into the day. So if you got Stars and Stripes up in here, he’d probably arrive late in the day and then start looping at midnight.”

“Would we remember seeing him?” Rhodey asks. “Since we’re—God—already in our loop?”

“Now that I’m not sure about,” Justin says. “I’ve seen this guy come up in here trying to find his nephew, and the first night it’s normal, reunion, whatever, but the next day it was like—the nephew was glitching. He remembered him being here, but he didn’t. Because for him, when his Uncle arrived was erased, reset, but the Uncle remembered it because he hadn’t experienced his first full day yet, his first loop. So it was like, the reunion was still out in the universe, even though it’d been wiped from the nephew’s mind. Get it?”

“No,” Rhodey says, shaking his head.

“I don’t know,” Justin says, shrugging. “Could go either way. The kid remembered and he didn’t remember.”

Tony rubs his temples. “This is…hell. Literal purgatory.”

“Tell me about it,” Justin says, bracing his feet on the seat in front of him.

“How did you get the run of this place?” Happy asks, looking around. “You got keys and everything. Codes to fucking freezers.”

Justin laughs a little bit. “Oh, before I do anything else I get up every morning and come over here and make friends with the nice little old couple that owns this place. Technically, I work here. Felt like I needed a home base that wasn’t the motel, they got their help wanted sign—match made in heaven. They’re pretty busy out helping with Dead Guy Day, so they needed someone trustworthy to clean up in here and make sure everything was in working order. Plus, they have a good working phone I used to call my ex, but I’ve never been able to get a hold of her.”

“Trustworthy,” Tony huffs. “Were you ever not able to convince them?”

“Oh yeah, bunch of times,” Justin says, sniffling a little bit. 

“Don’t tell me you—”

“Yeah, I killed them,” Justin says, shrugging.

Tony recoils. They’re all sitting a couple seats away from him, but once again, it feels too close.

“You’re such a piece of shit,” Rhodey says. “Why couldn’t you have found some other place to set up base?”

“Because I like _this_ ,” Justin says, presenting the very old, broken down theater to them with his hands. “Anyways, they’re fine. Today.”

Tony stares at him for a long moment, and thinks about the asinine rules and non-rules of this goddamn loop. He reaches over, knocks Justin on the arm, and gets to his feet.

“What?” Justin asks, looking up at him.

“C’mere.”

Justin follows him out into the main aisle and a couple rows down, and when Tony turns to face him, he’s smiling like an idiot. Tony rolls his eyes. 

“I don’t want you killing anybody,” Tony says.

“Aw man, what?” Justin says, laughing.

“No. Not funny,” Tony says, shaking his head. “I need you to promise me. Because we could solve this shit at any time—accidentally, on purpose, who fucking knows—but if someone is dead in that last loop, they’re dead forever. And if you make some innocent person dead forever, you’re gonna be dead forever. And if it’s one of my people—I’ll restart the fucking loop to kill you multiple times. Understand?”

“Alright, alright—”

“No, you need to promise,” Tony says. He knows he can’t trust Justin as far as he can throw him, but he’s gotta have at least something to reassure him. “If you kill anybody, I’m done. I’ll go down with the ship—or leave you in the dust.”

Justin stares at him for a few seconds, with an expression Tony doesn’t exactly recognize on his face. “You’re so lucky you have friends,” he says. He clears his throat. “Sure. No killing. I can live with that. But if it’s a genuine accident, you can’t fault me—who knows what the hell we’ll have to do to solve this shit.”

“Fine,” Tony says, just as Peter turns the corner, walking into the auditorium. Tony brushes past Justin and towards the kid. “All good?” he asks. Good as it can be, he means, Jesus.

Peter nods. “Yeah, uh—she was good with it because I’m with you.”

Now _that_ makes Tony feel like shit, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“I told her I’d probably be calling from this number since we have no service, so…just, uh, remind me I said that,” Peter says, clearing his throat. Tony hates that Peter is clearly already dreading the inevitable resetting, and he wishes he could resolve this in one day, for their sakes. Peter looks around. “So what’s the plan?”

“Little buddy, I haven’t had a plan this entire time,” Justin says, his hands on his hips.

“Maybe that’s why you’re still stuck,” Peter says, mocking his stance. Happy snorts and Tony feels a surge of pride when Justin looks a little struck by the comment. 

“You got a map of this place?” Tony asks, walking over to sit back down, giving Peter a congratulatory pat on the arm on his way over. 

“Of the theater?” Justin asks.

“Yeah, the theater, I wanna renovate it,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “No, idiot, the town. Nederland.”

“Oh, oh,” Justin says. “Yeah, actually…gimme a second.” He turns the corner and walks away, and Peter glares at him as he sits down next to Tony.

“Everything good with May?” Tony asks. “You know, everyday life? Everything else in ship shape, uh…save for her nephew being stuck in a time loop?”

“She’s good,” Peter says, though there’s still that nervousness in his eyes, like he’s afraid he’s never gonna see her again. “Uh, she and Pepper have been hanging out, I think they’re both addicted to Shirley Temples now.”

“Ah, since wine night is out,” Tony says.

“Yeah.”

“Pepper isn’t gonna buy this for very long,” Happy says. “You go to the deli for longer than anticipated and she’s ready to report you missing.”

“Uh, she trusts me,” Tony says, knowing full-well he’s right, that she does worry. For good reason. “I think I bought myself enough time, I’ve got a deadline in my head—shit, we can’t let this get the best of us.”

“You mean you,” Rhodey says. “We’re essentially useless. You’ll be resetting our asses every morning like little wind-up dolls. I bet that’s gonna get irritating real fast.”

Tony doesn’t want to imagine it, because he knows he has to live it. Today was bad enough. He smiles at them. “I could never get irritated with you guys. Now, Hammer, on the other hand—”

Speaking of the goddamn devil, Justin wanders back around the corner waving a gossamer-looking sheet of paper that has writing all over it. “So I just marked down all the places I’ve already investigated, you’re welcome, I knew exactly what you were thinking—”

“So those are all the places we’re gonna have to go over again, cool,” Tony says, as Justin holds the map out.

“—but there’s this cluster of cabins up near the edge of town that I haven’t really gotten around to, because it’s far and cold up there and I don’t wanna deal with it.”

“Where the hell is your dedication to getting yourself out of this?” Rhodey asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah, I pretty much decided to leave that, uh, up to Tony,” Justin says, smiling. 

Tony rolls his eyes. “Okay, cluster of cabins. Sounds like a good first bet. Don’t suppose I can, uh, tempt the three of you into hanging out back here—”

“Nope.”

“Solid no.”

“No way.”

“Thought about as much,” Tony says, pressing his hands onto the armrests and pushing himself to his feet. He has a tinge of foreboding tugging at the base of his scalp, and he tries not to concentrate on it.

“Carpooling?” Justin asks, raising his eyebrows. “My car’s a hunk of trash, stole it on the way in here—”

“Jesus, I don’t even want him in the rental car, Tony,” Rhodey says. “I’m in a contract. A binding contract.”

Justin snorts. “Uh, yeah, you’re gonna be here long enough—that car is yours now.”

~

They’re walking back over to the motel, and Tony can feel the somber mood that’s settled over everybody but Justin. He looks over and meets Peter’s eyes, and instead of Tony having to needle whatever it is out of him, Peter exchanges a quick glance with Happy and Rhodey, then comes out with it himself.

“I don’t wanna forget at the end of the day,” he says. He looks at the others again, and Happy looks down at his feet, pressing his lips together in a thin line. Peter looks back at Tony. “None of us do.”

Tony’s heart constricts a little bit and he shakes his head. “Pete—”

“We know you can’t do anything,” Happy says. “It just—it just sucks, to know it’s coming, to know that we’re gonna be goddamn—worthless, useless to you in this whole hellish situation.”

“Last possible words I’d ever call you guys,” Tony says, looking between them. “More along the lines of—heroic, intelligent, very, very special—”

“We’re gonna be a hindrance, Tones,” Rhodey says, and he’s way too serious for Tony’s liking, despite the seriousness of the situation. “Every day you’re gonna have to re-explain everything to us, explain why Hammer is here, get us to believe you, when you need to be working on how to fix this shit. You’ll have to tell us the same thing, over and over and over. It sucks, it really—sucks.”

“Listen,” Tony says, as they cross the street. “All three of you—it doesn’t matter. It is what it is. I need you, you know I need you to solve this thing. There’s gotta be something left in your heads between loops, some kind of memory—just believe me.” He sighs, nodding, trying to hope and pray it works that way. “Just believe me, okay?”

“We’ll try,” Peter says, downtrodden.

Tony can’t think of a good enough pep talk because this whole situation blows, almost worse than some of the worst situations he’s gotten himself into. He feels like the trauma of what they went through with the whole Thanos situation is ingrained in their blood now—those images playing in some kind of horror reel over and over in their minds. Tony can’t lose Peter again, can’t see Rhodey get hurt again, can’t put Happy in danger again. Rhodey is just as protective, Happy maybe more so, and Peter has lost so much in his life that seeing Tony come so close to death is probably hyping his paranoia up to eleven.

This is the last. Thing. They needed.

“Alright,” Justin says, rushing forward when he sees what car they’re walking towards. “Shotgun—”

“Yeah fuckin’ right,” Tony says, glaring at him.

“Um, I know where we’re going and you don’t—”

“I have the map, dickweed,” Tony says. He looks at Happy and Peter, who have the unfortunate problem of having to share the backseat. “Actually, I’d prefer if we strap you to the roof—”

“It’s fine,” Happy says. “Pete’s just gotta sit in the middle.”

“Sorry kid,” Tony says. 

“It’s fine,” Peter says, shooting a look at Justin. It sounds decidedly not fine.

Justin sighs, getting into the seat behind Tony’s, and Tony gets in too. He hates how Justin is almost—on their team now, and even though the snow is still falling pretty heavily, Tony feels like his own body heat is stifling him. Once he’s got his seatbelt on he rolls down the window and holds his hand out, catching some of the flakes in his palm.

Rhodey puts the car into reverse and looks over at Tony. “Where to, navigator?”

Before Tony can say anything, Justin also pipes in. “Yeah, navigator, where to?”

Tony glares at him in the side mirror. “Just head out onto the main road,” he says, glancing down at the map. “Then take a left at the second stoplight.”

“Alright,” Rhodey says, backing out of his spot and pulling towards the lot exit.

“I hope there’s something out there,” Happy says, and Tony can see him leaning forward to direct the question at Justin, past poor Peter, who’s sitting between them. “I don’t wanna waste our time on bullshit.”

“Who goddamn knows what’s out there?” Justin asks. “Sure as hell not me. That’s why we’re going, maybe there’s some—magic fucking talisman—”

It happens fast. So fast that Tony barely processes it. He sure as hell doesn’t have a moment to think, doesn’t have a moment to react—he sees the flash of red, hears Justin yell _wait_ but there’s no time to wait, no time for Rhodey to reverse, no room to pull forward. The goddamn red car slams into them like it was going a hundred miles per hour, and then all Tony can feel is pain. The kind of unimaginable pain that permeates, flares up all over him, but his arm—his arm—his fucking arm—

The rest of it is flashes—

Pain—

Screaming, screaming—he thinks he hears someone else now—

His arm—his goddamn arm, oh fuck, what happened—

He’s somewhere else now, a blur, whiteness, blood, metal in his mouth, Jesus, where are they, where are they—

Groggy, dizzy, his arm, what happened to his arm, where—

Peter, Rhodey, Happy, he thinks he’s saying their names, he thinks he’s talking, he feels hands on him, keeping him down—

Can’t see, can’t fucking see—

“Where is he? Where is he, where is he, please!”

Peter’s voice.

How long has it been? Jesus fuck, Tony can’t think—he’s on something, something’s on him, his arm _his arm_ the good one this time, not the gauntlet arm, the fucking good arm—

His vision’s fuzzy, he knows he’s going in and out—in and out—

In and out—

Out—

Out—

Fucking—

Red car—

He feels like a raw nerve, broken and on fire, like his head is ten times the size it should be. He’s dying, he’s gotta be dying—

“Tony, God, it’s gonna be okay—”

He blinks. He can’t see. It feels like it’s been eight hundred years. He tries to clench his right fist but—but—

“Tony. Tony.”

_DAY THREE_

He wakes up with a jolt to fucking _SOS_. He’s in the motel bed again. It’s another day. He feels like he’s gonna have a heart attack and he immediately grips his right arm, feeling all the way down over his wrist, his knuckles. He runs his hand over his forehead. He’s here. He’s all here. 

He swallows hard and quickly makes for the screaming alarm clock, turning it over and pressing the button, cutting the song off. Peter is groaning a little bit, turning his face into the pillow, and Tony gets to his feet, padding over to the adjoining door. He slips inside, tip-toes between the beds where Rhodey and Happy are still sleeping, and quickly unplugs their clock before it can unleash Cher unto the world. He grabs the car keys off the dresser, and sees the base of the broken glass from the first night. He swallows hard.

He goes back into his room, heart still racing, and catches Peter looking blearily at him. He shuts the door as quietly as he can and leans against it, sighing.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asks, his voice rough with sleep. “Did you—set an alarm?”

“No,” Tony says. A wave of sadness sweeps over him, phantom pain all over his body. The goddamn car accident, and their voices from before that insanity echoing in his ears— _you’ll have to tell us the same thing, over and over and over_. For a long moment he isn’t sure what to say, how to say it, how to approach this new, fucked up, fractured day in this new, fucked up, purgatory of a world.

“You okay?” Peter asks, a little clearer now, sitting up on his elbows. “Weird look on your face.”

Tony clears his throat. “Uh, go back to sleep, bud,” he says. “That thing went off way too early, we’ve got—we’ve got time, still, til the, uh—award thing.”

Peter nods, but he doesn’t seem entirely convinced. Tony feels tired—fucking exhausted—and he doesn’t know how any of this works, if it’s like he’s not getting any sleep, if he’s still tired from their—whatever the hell happened yesterday, even though the physical evidence is gone. The wreck was bad, the wreck was a mess, he can’t remember ever being that fucked up except when he was close to death or high out of his mind.

“I had a bad dream,” Peter says, softly, his voice breaking a little bit on the last word. “It was…it was weird, kinda like…the bad ones I used to have before, you know?”

Tony’s attention shifts from his current predicament and he focuses on Peter. He knows what he’s referring to—the dreams he had after the Vulture, and the dreams he had once everything was settled, when he was trying to get back to living after being dead. He walks over and sits on the edge of Peter’s bed, looking down at him. “What was it?” he asks. 

Peter looks down and away. “I don’t really remember all of it, it was more…more like a feeling, just—hurt, I could taste blood, I knew you were there but you couldn’t see me, you were hurt too—it was just—I don’t know, the whole thing just—well, I’m glad to be out of it,” he says, with a strained smile.

Tony’s heart is racing again. That _dream_ sounds significantly like their fuckup of a day yesterday. He’s not ready to start explaining this shit, not right now, he wants to go talk to Justin first to get more details, but it definitely sounds like pieces of what happened are still hanging around in Peter’s head. “You don’t, uh…remember any other details?” he asks.

Peter shakes his head.

Tony blows out a breath. “Well, it’s over now,” he says. “We’re okay.”

“We’re okay,” Peter repeats. He yawns, swaying a little bit. “You’ll wake me up when we gotta go?”

“Of course,” Tony says, reaching out and ruffling his hair.

“Okay,” Peter says. He gives Tony a funny look, like he doesn’t believe him, and Tony thinks about the loop and what it leaves behind with the people that don’t know they’re experiencing it. Shit, he wishes he could peel back the layers of this thing, get into how it works—but magic hides itself, he’s realized that shit in the last couple of years. Works in between the folds of time and space, unseen to eyes like his. 

Peter turns and settles back against his pillow, and Tony watches him for a second before he gets up and walks over to his suitcase. He sees the outfit he put on yesterday and shakes his head, pushing it aside for something different. Fuck if he’ll go along with this repetitive shit. He’s gonna make as many things different as he can, even if it kills him.

Which…it probably will.

He sighs. He goes into the bathroom and splashes water on his face for about ten minutes and then he gets dressed, and slowly slips out into the hallway without waking Peter up again. He can’t remember what room Justin said he was in, and for a second he feels way creeped out that they’re staying in the same motel as him. Tony doesn’t even know if he’s here right now, he could be off—killing the old couple at the goddamn theater. 

Tony sighs again, and looks off down the hallway towards the wall.

“Oh Jesus, there he is,” Justin’s voice says. Tony turns and sees him coming from the direction of the lobby, and he puts his hands on his hips. 

“You weren’t killing anybody, right?” Tony asks, even though he’s got a million other things he wants to ask right now.

Justin scoffs, walking up and stopping right in front of him. “No! Of course not! Promises are promises, right? And Jesus, after what happened to you yesterday—shit, buddy—” He laughs a little bit. “That was uh—”

“Didn’t it happen to all of us?” Tony asks. “Car accident, right?”

“Yeah, fucking red car,” Justin says, clicking his tongue. “Yeah, we were all pretty fucked up—I mean, I was second worst, to be fair, but you—shit, you got the brunt of it—”

“I couldn’t see anything,” Tony says, remembering the fuzziness, the pain. “My arm—”

“Your arm,” Justin laughs. “Your arm—was severed, bud. It was disgusting. You had, like, half an arm. And you kept going in and out of consciousness because—I mean, you had a massive concussion, brain damage, your fuckin’ forehead was caved in—”

Tony feels sick. Not because he had to deal with that, which in and of itself…sucks, but more so because the others had to see him like that. “But I didn’t die?” 

“Close, but no cigar,” Justin says, shaking his head. “Jesus, gruesome shit. Kid was out of his fucking mind, Rhodey was crying, Happy was clinging to you—God, it was—I mean, I’ve been stuck for three months and I’ve never had anything like that happen—nothing that fucking horrifying—”

“Alright,” Tony says, shaking his head. He thinks about asking what happened to the rest of them, their injuries, but he thinks better of it. “Jesus. I thought you were supposed to know what was gonna happen? Goddamnit.”

“Listen, I warned you guys about that goddamn red car before,” Justin says. “I’d never pulled out of that parking lot in that exact moment, shit, I mean, whatever, we’re fine.”

“No, now we lost another goddamn day and they were fucking traumatized,” Tony says, gesturing back at the doors.

“They’re fine,” Justin says, drawing out the word. “It’s a new day. I’ve done some shit I wish I could forget, lemme tell ya.”

“Uh, yeah, I think something hangs around for them,” Tony says. Justin cocks his head at him. “Peter had a bad dream, which sounded a lot like what we went through yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Weird,” Justin says, nodding.

Tony stares at him. “Is that…is that not interesting to you? Is that not something we should, I don’t know, look into?”

“I mean, maybe?” Justin asks. “What are we gonna do? Run around asking people what kinda dreams they’ve been having? These people are weird, Tony, but I don’t—”

“Alright, whatever,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. He rakes his hands down his face and leans back against the wall. “Goddamnit, how do you deal with these rollovers? I don’t know how to fucking adapt, it’s like whiplash.”

“Yeah, I’m used to it,” Justin says. “We were gonna go check out those cabins before red car had to come along and fuck us over. Same plan? Wanna wake your entourage up?”

Tony initially thinks—yes, he wants them with him, he feels stronger and more capable with them there, but then he thinks of the brief description Justin gave him of yesterday, what happened—today, if he does things wrong—and he shakes his head. “No,” he says, clearing his throat. “Let’s go over there on our own.”

“Just us,” Justin says, grinning. “Ah, it’s finally going my way.”

Tony grimaces, shaking his head at him. “Don’t make me kill you.”

~

“Are you gonna, uh—pull out into the street?” Justin asks, looking over at him from the passenger seat. “There’s no one in the road.”

“Do you not recall—”

“But there’s no one in the street.”

“That shithead came out of nowhere,” Tony says. Justin sighs but surprisingly, doesn’t pipe up again, which makes Tony wonder about the extent of his injuries from the accident. He checks all of his mirrors, stares out the window, and then pulls out into the street fast as he can, speeding through the green light and turning the corner. “How far away are these cabins, you think? Timewise.”

“Oh, time,” Justin says, looking wistful. 

“No jokes about time,” Tony says. “Or loops. Or anything that resembles a loop. Or snow. Or frozen dead guys. Ground rules.”

“You suck all the fun out of everything.”

“Back to my original question,” Tony says. 

“I don’t know, maybe fifteen minutes,” Justin says. “I never came out here. Never saw any…point in it. Nothing to do, just random people who probably weren’t interested in the festivities.”

“Could be some evil lair,” Tony says. “The person who did this could be up there watching you in some room full of tech. They’ve probably got cameras everywhere.”

“Now that sounds like paranoia,” Justin says. “Service up here is shit. You’d think it’d be better.”

“Yeah, that’s probably part of it,” Tony says, keeping his eyes on the road as it winds around. The snow is piled up all around them, and he tries not to think too hard about the fact that it’s fucking January here right now. He keeps hoping he’ll wake up one of these times back in New York. All a big dream. Jesus, God, something’s gotta give. He takes a quick look at Justin and rolls his eyes without thinking about it—he doesn’t like being alone with him, being around him at all, and he hates that of all people in the goddamn world, he had to get stuck in an endless loop with this asshole.

“I was about to ask you if you have any enemies but then I remembered who you are and what an asinine question that would be,” Tony says, gripping the wheel a little too tight. “Enemy number one, right here.”

“Anthony, do you really—shit, was it you?” Justin asks. “Is this whole thing a ruse? Did you bamboozle me?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t come up with something like this,” Tony says. “Reminds me, if I had done it, I would have needed a little help from a certain wizard, so I should try to give him a call.”

“Wizard, nice, nice,” Justin says. “Jesus, I wish I could do magic. Woulda made the jail escape, uh—a lot easier.”

“Yeah, so since we’re unlikely partners in this whole shindig,” Tony says, stopping at a red light, “how’d that all go down?”

“Oh, speaking as partners?” Justin asks. “Is that close to friends?”

Tony stares at him, and Justin laughs.

“Alright, we’ll get there. Uh—escape, yeah, no big thing, my ex was a guard way back when, knew the place inside and out, and she got a couple of the other big guys to help me out. Took about three months of planning, thought it’d be fucking worth it—but instead I got three months of garbage for all my trouble.”

“Oh, poor you,” Tony says, taking off again when the light turns green. “Ever think you should have, uh, stayed in prison?”

“Nah,” Justin says, grinning. “Wasn’t for me.”

“I think it was perfect for you,” Tony says. “Match made in heaven.”

“When are you gonna get over our little run-in, huh?” Justin asks. “I mean, it wasn’t anything personal—”

Tony groans as loud as he can. “Stop talking. I’m tired of your voice.”

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Justin says. “Truly, madly, deeply.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony says. “You’re a low-grade villain. Like, bottom of the barrel.”

“That hurts.”

“Why the hell hasn’t your ex come to meet you?” Tony asks, looking over at him. “You said you haven’t been able to get a hold of her. Why hasn’t she contacted you?”

“Oh, I’m surprised you were listening to me.”

He really makes Tony’s blood boil. He’s such a goddamn child. He sucks in a big breath and shakes his head, focusing on the slick roads, and Justin laughs.

“Well, I lost my burner phone on the way here, so she doesn’t know where to call, and when I called the number I had for her it was disconnected. Been a little worried the cops snagged her, she’s—not exactly an upstanding citizen.”

“Of course not, to be hooked up with you,” Tony says. 

“Hopefully she’s not dead,” Justin says, with a shrug. 

A raccoon runs out in front of the car and Tony hits the brakes as easily and quickly as he can without skidding off the fucking road. His heartrate skyrockets and the thing skitters away off into the woods. Tony takes a breath, slowly picking up speed again and thanking God no one was behind them.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “I’m so fucking tired of this place.”

~

The cabins look innocuous, nothing special or outrageous about any of them. They don’t look haunted but they don’t look luxury either, just somewhere in the middle. Tony and Justin knock on doors, speak to a couple people, but nothing sets off any alarms, and Tony thinks he’s gotten pretty good at sniffing people out who are up to no good. A couple of the cabins are empty and a couple look abandoned, and they break inside one to see if there are any clues anywhere.

Clues. Jesus Christ, he’s in a Scooby Doo episode.

“I can’t believe you haven’t come up here yet,” Tony says, in the middle of the bedroom in one of the empty cabins. “This place is like—rife for evil people—such as yourself—”

“Uh, I am not evil,” Justin says. “I’m crafty.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“And there’s nothing up here,” Justin says, kicking over a rocking chair. A cloud of dust lifts off it and wafts up into the air, and Tony coughs in the face of it, glaring over at him. 

“Have we officially decided that this loop is something aimed at you?” Tony asks.

“Oh, are we deciding things in an official capacity together now? Because—”

“Hammer.”

“I guess,” Justin says. “I don’t know. I mean, now you’re a part of it.”

Tony shakes his head, looking off towards the window. “Shit,” he says. He doesn’t wanna say he has no idea what to do, but he has no idea what to do. The only thing he can think of is that he should probably get back to the motel before the others think he was kidnapped or something. “Alright, I’ll write this one up as a bust. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Can mark it off the map, at least,” Justin says, as they turn and head for the door.

The snow seems like it’s falling harder, and it feels like an omen to Tony, a bad sign of their progress, or lack thereof. He looks over his shoulder and Justin is staring at him with a weird look in his eye, but it’s hard to determine if it’s a weird look or if that’s just his stupid face. Tony has a hard time feeling bad for him, and balks at the sentiment when it shows up fresh in his mind. He knows he had to have gotten himself into this shit somehow, and he still wonders if he knows more than he’s been letting on.

Tony watches their boot tracks as they trek through the snow and towards the car, and a man comes out of the house two down from where they just broke in, giving them a strange look. Tony can’t help but take notice of this one, and he looks back at Justin and sees him blatantly trying to avoid the guy’s gaze.

“Hey!” the guy yells, but he’s not looking at Tony, he’s looking at Justin.

Justin doesn’t answer. 

“I know you from somewhere?” the guy asks, narrowing his eyes. He’s slim, dark-haired, wearing suspenders and a big jacket, and Tony turns and looks at Justin again. “You look—I feel like I mighta seen you before.” He stares, looks a little shaken up.

“No, we just arrived in town,” Justin says, waving his hand through the air. “Never—never met you before in my life.”

“Hmm. You look awful familiar.”

“Or just plain awful?” Tony asks, as the expression on Justin’s face gets more sour. 

“You’ve never been around here before?” the guy asks. “You just—”

“Nope,” Justin snaps. “Tony, open the car.”

Tony narrows his eyes at him. “Justin, this nice man is trying to talk to you.”

“ _Tony_ ,” Justin says, tugging on the door handle. “We’ve got people waiting on us, remember? People that are probably getting very antsy—”

Tony puts his hands on the top of the car. “I’m getting this story,” he whispers, harsh.

“Fine,” Justin hisses. 

“Sorry, bud!” Tony yells, waving at the man. “I guess he just has one of those faces.” He opens the door and Justin all but hurls himself inside, and Tony can’t imagine what the fuck Justin did to this guy, but he figures it has to be something less than on the up and up.

“Guess so,” the guy says, though he still sounds suspicious as Tony gets into the car too, shutting out all the noise.

Tony starts the engine and peels out of there, watching as Justin stares out the window as they turn out of the cabin neighborhood. He looks over at Justin with more interest than he thinks he’s ever shown him since he found out he existed, and Justin blows out a breath.

“So what did you do?” Tony asks. “Did you murder that man? For kicks?”

Justin scoffs. “No, I did not _murder him_. I slept with him. A couple times. Kinky guy, but the last time around it got a little weird and I just—I do not wanna restart that shit. Maybe you’re onto something with the dreaming thing. Aw, he was dreaming about me.”

Tony icks, shaking his head. “God, I do not want to think of you as a sexual being. Murder is almost better.”

“Oh, I’m a sexual being. Remember the choking?”

“Hammer.”

“I know you—”

“I’ll crash the car,” Tony says, gripping the steering wheel tight. “I’ll do it.”

“You don’t wanna upset your buddies,” Justin says, as the car winds around a bend. “That kid, since when do you have a paternal bone in your body? I thought the only time anyone would be calling you daddy would be—”

Tony abruptly swerves the car from right to left quick and slick, and it shuts Justin up before the rest of his disgusting sentence can come out of his disgusting mouth. 

Justin sighs. “You see that kid like…your kid? Picking up strays, Tony Stark?”

“He’s not a stray,” Tony spits out. “He has an aunt that I’m really close with, and anyway shut the fuck up, I’m not talking to you about Peter.”

“Adorable,” Justin says, leaning back a little in his seat. “You’re co-parenting a kid with his aunt. Aunt? Are his parents out of the picture?” He gasps a little bit, and leans in over the center console. “Tony, did you _kill them_? That’s not how you adopt a kid, Stark, there are avenues—”

“Seriously,” Tony says, looking at him. “I’ll kill you and throw your body into the river. We’ll just start over, it’s fine with me.”

“What happened to the whole no murdering thing? Does that not apply to me?”

“Nothing applies to you,” Tony says. “You’re a goddamn wild card.”

Justin preens a little at that, which nearly makes Tony gag. “Sounds like a compliment.”

“It’s not.”

“Sounds like one.”

“Just shut the fuck up.”

~

Tony can hear Happy’s voice as they’re walking up to the motel lobby, before they even open the door. It booms and echoes, and Tony thinks the whole goddamn place can probably hear him. 

“ _He’s about this tall, goatee, handsome—Jesus, you have to know Tony Stark—_ ”

Justin smirks, looking at Tony as they stride up the walkway. “You sure do inspire a certain kind of loyalty,” he says, looking Tony up and down. 

“I don’t know what you’re implying, but again—”

“—shut the fuck up, right.” He mimes zipping his mouth shut, and Tony rolls his eyes as they open the main door. 

All three of them are standing at the front desk and they whip their heads around when the bell above the door rings. A myriad of emotions flash across their faces but then they’re all yelling, so Tony knows what won out.

“What the hell is going _on_ —”

“Tony, we’re freaking out, did this guy kidnap you? Did he—”

Rhodey grabs Justin by the collar of his jacket and backs him up until he hits the wall. “What the fuck are you doing here, Hammer?” he growls, and Tony is worried for a second before Justin’s eyes flick over to him and he lets a little grin spread across his face. Then Tony isn’t worried anymore, he’s just grossed out and annoyed and way, way too done.

“Rhodey, stand down,” Tony says, walking over and putting his hand on Rhodey’s shoulder.

“Tones,” Rhodey says, still staring Justin down. “What’s happening? Why is this asshole here? Where did you go?”

“Let go of him, he’s enjoying it too much,” Tony says.

Rhodey narrows his eyes and slowly lets go, still staring Justin down.

“Tony, you okay?” Happy asks, close to his side, Peter right behind him. “Shit, we were freaking out—you just disappeared—I mean, the kid was freaking out, so I was freaking out, but clearly we had a reason to be freaking out—”

“Thanks for accosting the front desk lady on my behalf,” Tony says, looking back and forth at them. 

“I know this guy,” Peter says, stepping closer to Tony with a wary look in his eye. “I was—he was—”

Tony tugs him closer, that helpless feeling twisting in his gut again. 

“This is the best part, huh?” Justin asks, shrugging at Tony. “I’m so glad I don’t have people with me, holy shit.”

Tony sighs, shaking his head. “Not helping.”

“Tony,” Happy says. “Are you working with this guy? Fucking…Justin Hammer?”

“Oh, no,” Justin says, holding his hands out, “though I wouldn’t be opposed, we’re not fu—”

Tony hisses, nearly spits, waves his hands out frantically in Justin’s direction. Which looks…really suspicious, he realizes, as soon as he catches sight of the other three watching him. He glares at Justin, turns his back on him, and urges Rhodey closer. 

“What’s going on?” Rhodey asks, tentatively. 

Tony sighs. “Do you trust me?”

~

He explains it all again. He’s gonna have to come up with a goddamn script, but what’s worse is he won’t even have to write it down, because soon he’s gonna have his whole spiel to them memorized word for word. It’s hard, watching their faces as they realize, even harder telling them straight out that they’ve done this before, that they’ll probably do it again. He tells them about the car accident, the perpetual dead guy day, which they inform him they marched through searching for him when he was gone. 

“A request,” Peter says, once it’s all out in the open. Tony turns his attention to him and Peter swallows hard, looking down. “Can you, uh—I mean, I get it, this sucks and it’s probably—super hard to deal with waking up to the same situation over and over and over again, especially after something like that car accident happens, but—just—can you not just…disappear like that?” he asks, clearing his throat. “Please?”

“Yeah,” Happy says. “It was not good. None of us were good.”

“Especially when we can’t call you,” Rhodey says, shaking his head. He looks over at Peter knowingly and Tony feels selfish then—lately he’s only been concentrating on his own damn losses, how hard it was to be without Peter, what it felt like when he lost him and how clingy he’s been since he got him back, but Peter—shit, Peter’s lost his parents and his uncle and he’s not even out of high school yet. Tony’s become a father figure to him, nobody can deny it and no one really tries to anymore, so he can imagine what it felt like to wake up and find him gone with no idea where he went off to. Tony knows it’d hurt for Happy and Rhodey to lose him, he knows how it would feel for them and it wouldn’t be pretty, but he knows for Peter, it’d be different. The dread and shame covers him and he sinks in it for a minute, wincing against his own callousness, and he clears his throat, pulling Peter into a quick hug. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, his voice breaking a little bit as he ruffles the kid’s hair. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“It’s okay,” Peter says, into Tony’s shoulder, hugging him back. “I mean, that accident—it sounds—”

“It’s no excuse,” Tony says, pulling back and looking at him. “I won’t do it again,” he says, to all of them. They nod at him and he tries to reconcile his shitty decision with their clear instant forgiveness, and he knows he needs to be better, whether they know what’s going on or not. 

“What a sweet little family,” Justin says, from behind them. “I’m touched.”

“In the head,” Happy says. “How do we know he didn’t do this?” 

“Because even I don’t hate myself that much,” Justin says. “I would have never chosen Frozen Dead Guy Day as my day of choice, lemme tell you. Or Nederland, for that matter. Maybe Orlando, maybe Epcot for food and wine—or Maui—or Key West, I hear there’s a rooftop bar where everybody’s naked—”

“Why is—literally everything that comes out of your mouth a pile of garbage?” Tony asks, glaring at him. 

“Oh, right,” Justin says, straightening up a little bit. “Your son’s present. Sorry, I’ll try to keep it G-rated.”

Peter gives Tony a weird look and Tony shakes his head.

“So what are we doing about this?” Rhodey asks.

That’s always the goddamn question. Tony feels like an idiot standing here in the motel lobby but he thinks he’ll feel like even more of an idiot standing in the middle of their room, worse yet if Justin is in there with them. He doesn’t want Justin to see where they sleep—even though he feels like that’s an inevitability and the asshole has probably slept in every single one of these beds anyway. He’s had enough time and free reign to do so. 

Tony shakes his head. 

“You think something’s hidden up in the mountains?” Peter asks. “Maybe like in Indiana Jones, like a grail quest or something like that?”

“I would stumble into a fucking grail quest,” Justin says, rolling his eyes. 

“Why the hell did your ex pick this place to begin with?” Happy asks. “Isn’t exactly a five star resort or the like. Wouldn’t picture you here.”

“Precisely why,” Justin says, pointing at him. “Who wants to get caught? I know you guys wouldn’t come looking for me here if you were looking for me.”

“His ex is a dead end unless she comes here too, but even then she’ll probably get trapped right along with us,” Tony says. “And even then, we don’t know if she’ll remember like I do.”

“No leads to why you remember?” Rhodey asks. “Did he do something to you? Did he kiss you?”

Tony sighs, and Justin snickers. “No,” Tony says. “We have no idea.”

“You and I have a connection,” Justin says. “That’s probably why.”

“And you and your ex don’t?” Peter asks him. 

Justin shrugs. “Sure we do. Maybe she’d remember too, if she was here. Who knows! All I know is—that’d definitely be a threesome to remember, dontcha think, Tony?”

“Remember how many times I hit you, that first day?” Tony asks. “We can add to that number, I’m fine with it.”

Justin mimes zipping up his lips again, but he looks like he’s having—thoughts—and Tony shivers and looks at the others. “Grail quest—could be a good idea, with a place like this, shit—the town could have some magic spell on it, maybe something’s hidden here, we’ve got no other ideas, I think we should try it out.” He reluctantly looks back at Justin. “Have you done any reconnaissance work in the mountains?”

“I’ve done some skiing,” Justin says. 

Tony rolls his eyes and turns to the others again. “Okay, I need warmer jackets, better shoes, nobody’s freezing to death on my watch.”

~

They hike up to the lake, find nothing. It’s frozen over and he doesn’t let the others get within five feet of the ice for fear of them falling in and freezing to death, he’s even worried about it happening to Justin, much to his own chagrin. They do as much searching as they can manage before it feels like they’re playing hide and seek with a fucking ghost, and Tony hates that _they just might be_. This shit could be anything. A grail quest, like Peter said—some ancient relic casting a spell on poor little snowy Nederland and plucking out some unlucky assholes to participate in its games. Could be a ghost, stuck here and waiting for them to find it. Could be a witch or wizard fucking around for no goddamn reason, because they’re being forced to—

Tony realizes he’s trailing behind, at the back of the group, and he’s gritting his teeth so hard that it feels like he might crack them. There are too many possibilities here and no way to bring them to light, no guidance, only danger, only irritation and loops and circles and an every morning rebirth for Peter, Rhodey and Happy, searching for explanations Tony doesn’t have. He doesn’t know if resetting every morning is doing something to their minds, scrambling their memories, and he doesn’t know if remembering every detail is fucking him up more than he knows.

Too many questions. Too many non-answers.

They hike up further into the mountain where the trails aren’t marked and there aren’t any people around. Tony’s paranoia rises to astronomical levels and he keeps quiet, keeps his eyes peeled, tries to tamper his worry down, but he can’t stop looking for danger, can’t stop reading into every word Justin says, can’t stop thinking every step they take is gonna fuck them over. This whole thing makes him feel small, inconsequential, incapable, like an ant stuck under some first-grader’s magnifying glass, waiting for the sun.

They find an opening in the mountain about halfway up and it looks like a cave, and for a minute the case feels broken open, bursting with possibilities. A fucking cave—there’s gotta be something in there. Some kind of clue.

But it’s only snow. Damp, melting snow, a definitive back, no secret doors or ladders. Nothing. No one.

“Shit,” Rhodey says, standing in the mouth of the cave and looking back at them. He and Peter are the only ones that aren’t winded, and he exchanges a look with Happy. There’s dread there, veiled fear, disbelief. Usually Tony can read Rhodey pretty well, and that expression speaks to him—Rhodey doesn’t know what he believes, but he trusts Tony, so he has to believe his story. But the lack of clues is getting to him, Tony can see it in his eyes. He can’t fucking blame him.

“What do we do now?” Peter asks. “Should we keep climbing?”

“You keep going, I’m staying here,” Happy says, sitting down. “This shit is too much and we don’t even know what we’re looking for.”

“Let’s just go back,” Justin says, wiping snow off his shoulder. He does a quick spin, looking up and around, and he shakes his head. “There’s nothing here.”

The sincerity in his voice freaks Tony out. “How do we know that?” he asks. “Our grail—thing—whatever—it could be buried inside the fucking mountain. We could have to dig for three days just to get to it.”

“Three days, a week, we’d never know,” Justin says. “And then watch—we wouldn’t find shit.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Happy asks, throwing his hands up. “Blow up the whole goddamn town? Trawl through the ashes?”

Ashes. Tony winces, and Happy looks like he instantly regrets the word choice, eyes cutting over to Peter. 

“I wanna get us out,” Peter says, holding his chin high. “I’ll keep looking, I’ll keep doing whatever we need to do.” There’s fear in his voice and in his gaze but the kid’s a hero before anything, and Tony knows he’ll never stop trying. 

Tony’s lied before to smooth things over, and he can’t let the kid be without hope.

“I feel like we’d know if something was here, buddy,” Tony says. “I mean—this is obviously a spell. Some kind of magic, we know that much. I feel like—there’d have to be some kind of indicator if we were close to a clue. Especially for me and Justin. And I don’t feel anything,” he says, hoping his bullshit is working. He turns and looks at Justin, making his eyes wide and hoping his point is getting across. “Do you?”

“No,” Justin says, quick, an expert at lying. “Yeah, I think we’d—I think we’d know.”

“Let’s head back,” Tony says. 

“We don’t have much day left,” Peter says, holding Tony’s gaze. 

Tony knows what he means—not much day left until the new day, the same day, the day where they don’t remember and they have to start all over again. There’s nothing he can say to make that better, or make it any less true, and he tries not to wince in the face of those facts. 

“C’mon, kid,” he says. “Let’s make the best of it.”

~

It feels like hurdling towards death, and it doesn’t help that they have death all around them. The climb down is steep and terrifying, and Tony feels a personal kind of anger when they pass by the frozen lake that delivered no clues, especially since the stupid ass dead guy day idiots are up there doing something called the Polar Plunge—actually _swimming_ under the ice and hoping they don’t die. Maybe this whole loop is retribution for being so stupid—maybe God is protecting them, choosing to end the loop on a day when none of them get maimed or die. Tony doesn’t know why the hell he and Justin have the honor—the curse—of remembering it all. Or why Justin had to drag him into it to begin with.

When they get back down to the main stretch of town, there are dozens of gray and blue balloons tied to lamp posts and floating in the air, and the red car speeds through the streets, the sight of it boiling Tony’s blood. Jeff the dog runs around wild with his kids chasing after him, the girls are still selling dead flowers, Martha and her husband are still arguing. Justin gives the redhead dead bride a lecherous look as she passes them by, and Tony doesn’t even want to imagine what happened between the two of them.

They find the most expensive restaurant in town, which turns out to be this seafood place called Dockspree, and Tony lets them all order whatever they want. He gets Peter two servings of a chocolate lava cake, and tries to enjoy the subsequent argument that crops up between him and Happy about flavors and sugar. 

The hours tick by and they finally head back to the motel when darkness falls and the decorations are taken down. The streets empty out and it looks a lot like it did when they first arrived here, that eerie feeling hanging translucent and settling over Tony like a death shroud. 

Justin meets his eyes as they approach the motel from the car. “I think this is the time when it lets people in,” he says. 

“It?” Happy asks. “The loop?”

“The loop, the town, whatever,” Justin says. “Like a flux time. Only time I’ve really seen or heard of people arriving.”

“Could we try and leave?” Tony asks. “You think it might work?”

“Never works,” Justin says, as they push the door open. “I think it might even be harder during flux time—it’s trying to suck more people in, not lose ‘em.” He sighs once they get inside, rubbing his arms. “Well, uh—yeah, I’ll see y’all tomorrow.” He brushes past them and starts heading for the second hallway, behind theirs. 

“That’s it?” Rhodey yells, his voice echoing alongside the crackling of the fire in the corner. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“Not much to say,” Justin says, turning and walking backwards with his arms out. “I’m looking forward to another violent introduction tomorrow.” He turns back around again and disappears down the hall. 

“Shit,” Rhodey says, looking at Tony. “I fucking hate that guy.”

~

They try to leave town, just for kicks, even though Tony knows it isn’t gonna work. And of course, when they’re two minutes down the road and optimism is growing in his heart, the car stutters and dies, and they have to push it back to fucking Nederland. 

So when they get back, they come up with something else to try.

“Maybe we can beat it this way,” Peter says. 

All three of them are sitting there on the ground in front of the fireplace, Happy and Rhodey forgoing the normal routine of going to their room to try and sleep. It’s seven minutes to midnight and Tony has never felt more awake and more exhausted at the same time before. It’s like every single mistake he has ever made is back to haunt him, to die with him, here in the dark and in the snow.

“It’s not gonna work,” Happy says, looking at him.

“We don’t know,” Tony says, wanting to keep the slightest bit of hope alive. “We have no idea.”

“Nothing’s gonna work,” Happy says.

Rhodey scoots a little closer to the fire. “We haven’t gotten a single step closer to figuring this shit out,” he says. “And how can we? Jesus Christ, this needs a guide book to begin with, not even taking into account that you’ve got us here like—dementia patients.”

“Peter had that dream,” Tony says, eyes cutting over to the clock. Three minutes. “I think you guys are retaining some of it. I think it’s in there, I really do. Just trust me, you gotta trust me.”

“This fucking sucks,” Peter says, tears in his voice, and he hangs his head. “This sucks, in just—in just a few minutes we’re gonna—it’s just gonna—”

Tony wraps his arm around him and tugs him closer, and Happy squeezes his shoulder on the other side. “I’m gonna figure it out,” Tony says, horror coursing through his veins, thinking about how many times they’re gonna replay this exact same scene. “I will.”

“You’re alone,” Peter says, looking up at him. “It’s like we’re not even really here.”

“I’m not,” Tony says. “I’m not, you guys are here, you never take too long to convince—”

“And May at home—and Ned and MJ—and God, Pepper, Pepper and the baby—God, what if we’re stuck for—”

His own personal hell and Peter can find it with no directions needed. “We won’t,” Tony says, cutting him off. “We won’t, I promise.”

“Tony,” Peter says.

And then everything changes.

_DAY FOUR_

Like the click of a remote. Like the blink of an eye, static on the radio and then a clear new channel. Tony wakes up in his bed, in the same room. To _SOS._

_So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me_  
_SOS_  
_The love you gave me, nothing else can save me_  
_SOS_

He just lays there, not really listening to the music, not really waking up, not really trying to go back to sleep. He just stews in his horror, his disbelief, and wonders what he’s done to deserve this. He’s never been a big fan of himself, even after he made his changes and managed to gather a good support system. But he doesn’t think he’s this big of a shit human being—to get stuck in a snowy forever with Justin Hammer. 

He twists the comforter in his hands.

_When you're gone_  
_How can I even try to go on?_  
_When you're gone_  
_Though I try how can I carry on?_

It feels fucking deliberate. How can he go on? He’s not the give up type. The closest he got to giving up was after Thanos defeated them, and Peter was gone, half the universe was gone, but even then he was able to drag himself back up to help solve the goddamn thing. But now—this. Shit. He stares at the ceiling. Rinse, repeat, rinse, repeat. Even his thoughts are the same.

Peter groans in the other bed. “I don’t even remember you setting an alarm.”

It makes Tony want to cry. He doesn’t say anything. He stares and he stares and he stares and he wonders what would happen if he didn’t move the entire day. If he didn’t speak, if he went catatonic, if he scared the shit out of all of them—maybe it would do something, if the goddamn loop realized he wasn’t here to play its game. 

“God, I forgot where we were for a second there,” Peter says, rolling onto his back. 

Tony brought him here. He stole from him. He stole from May, stole her nephew from her. Essentially fucking kidnapped him. Happy and Rhodey too. He’s ended their goddamn lives. He’s gonna miss the birth of his child. He’ll miss his daughter growing up. And whoever comes after him when they realize he’s missing, they’ll get stuck here too. He’ll steal away their chance at life, keep them from whatever they left behind to come and rescue his sorry ass.

He stares at the ceiling until his eyes burn. 

_So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me_  
_SOS_  
_The love you gave me, nothing else can save me_  
_SOS_

“Tony?” Peter asks, and Tony vaguely hears him getting out of bed. “Tony? What’s wrong?”

Tony covers his face with his hands. He’s two seconds away from bursting into tears like a child, and he clears his throat, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he says. 

_It’s like we’re not even really here_

He can hear Peter walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you crying? Are you mad about the alarm?”

“No, I’m not—”

“I’ll turn it off,” Peter says. “It must have already been set.”

Tony digs his fingers into his eyes, sees stars. He can feel Peter get up again, can hear him fiddling with the stupid alarm clock.

“It’s a trap door on the back,” Tony says, muffled behind his hands. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t have any plans, all he has are horrifying images of what was just a moment ago for him, last night, tonight, however or whatever the hell—the solemn feeling that hung in the air and over them all, the tears in Peter’s eyes, the resignation in Happy’s voice. Tony can imagine what they’re thinking and feeling when he tells them what’s been going on. It’s like someone took away their agency, their abilities. He hates it. He hates that he doesn’t know how to fix it. 

He thinks about Justin and half of him wants to beat him to death. Wants to smash that goddamn idiot face into oblivion for doing something like this. But the other half of him, to his horror, feels kindred with Justin, that they’re both stuck in this hell and have the misfortune to remember. Tony doesn’t wanna feel that way, doesn’t wanna have one single shred of sympathy for him, but it keeps cropping up at the forefront of his mind. They’ve become a partnership, for better or worse. Definitely worse. There’s no one he’d want to be partnered up with _less_ other than Thanos himself. Or maybe Obadiah. Or his own father. 

The music cuts out and then Tony feels Peter’s hand on his arm. Tony is crying, just a little bit, hot tears gathering and pooling beneath his fingers, and he doesn’t know how to stop himself, set things right. He doesn’t know whether to just start his goddamn story now or go regroup with Justin first, and like clockwork Cher starts crooning in the next room. 

“Tony?” Peter asks. “What’s going on? Did you have a nightmare, are you like—having an anxiety attack? Because if you are, just do what you always tell me, just breathe, focus on the here and now, focus on me, ground yourself—”

Peter is a smart cookie, because this is an anxiety attack. Definitely. He hasn’t had one in a while because things have been running smoothly, and he almost didn’t recognize it. It snuck up on him somehow, came in a different, stealthier form that made him go rigid. But Peter recognized it for what it was. 

“Breathe, in and out, it’s fine, it’s all totally fine and good,” Peter says, squeezing Tony’s wrist. He knows the kid is always worried about Tony’s heart since he let him know about the extent of all his issues, and he can feel Peter’s fingers working their way around to find his pulse. He knows how it feels—erratic, outrageous. He needs to calm the hell down and think about the facts. 

The adjoining door opens, he can’t see but he knows because Cher just gets louder. 

There’s a pause. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Happy asks.

“It’s okay,” Peter says, fast, still holding onto Tony.

“Is he okay?” Happy asks. “What’s going on?”

_What am I supposed to do_  
_Sit around and wait for you_  
_Well I can't do that_  
_And there's no turning back_

“He’s fine, totally all good,” Peter says. 

“Rhodes, something’s wrong with Tony.”

He needs to think about the facts. He needs to work this shit like a case, he needs to take it apart. He breathes hard. Facts. Facts. Facts. There must be a reason they’re stuck on this particular day. Frozen Dead Guy Day. That’s the only thing about today that seems to stand out. 

“Okay, I found it,” Rhodey’s voice says, from the other room. “I got it, I got it, one sec.”

The music stops.

Tony pulls his hands down and looks at Peter. He looks a little panicked, clearly trying to maintain his cool for Tony’s sake, and Happy and Rhodey approach, concern in their eyes. Tony braces his hand on Peter’s shoulder, and Peter holds on to Tony’s forearm as he pushes himself up into a sitting position.

“It’s Frozen Dead Guy Day,” he says. 

They narrow their eyes at him. 

“No it’s not,” Rhodey says. “No, we missed it.”

Tony has the inclination to just get up and leave, but he knows he can’t. This must have something to do with the goddamn stupid ass celebration, and he’s not gonna leave them behind again, he’s not gonna worry them more than they already are. It’s gotta be about this Frozen Dead Guy shit. It’s gotta be.

A tinge of fear presents itself in the back of his throat, at the prospect of explaining this shit again. Like he’s stuck in the bottom of a well, or staring down a long barrel. But he doesn’t want to do any of this without them.

He swallows hard, looks at all of them. “Do you trust me?”

~

He explains. They balk. He explains some more. He can see them breaking and he talks about the car accident, about yesterday, about the first day, about goddamn Justin, his stupid award ceremony ruse and every little detail. The freezer incident, the broken glass, the trap door on the back of the alarm clock, Frozen Dead Guy Day. He feels his chest tightening and heaving and he feels like he’s gonna throw up.

“And I don’t know how to fix it,” Tony says, tears in his eyes. “I don’t know what in the blue fuck to do, I don’t know how to save us, but—I have an idea, I think that we should—engage with the town? With this stupid festival? I don’t know if it’ll work. I don’t know at all, but I just—we’ve gotta try it. And I need you guys to believe me.” 

He envisions a dark cloud of a day when they don’t believe him, when they can’t, when he can’t get through and he loses that trust, and he hopes it’s not today, he hopes they’ll stay solid on his side where they’ve been all along, and his eyes flick back and forth between the three of them and he know he looks like he’s pleading, like he’s insane, like he’s gotten too cold, lack of oxygen to the brain, whatever the hell, but all he can think is _please, please, please, help me get our lives back._

“I believe you,” Peter says. “Of—of course I do. We do,” he says, looking back at the other two over his shoulder. 

“Justin did this,” Rhodey says. “I know it.”

Tony shakes his head. “No, he’s—he’s an asshole, but he doesn’t wanna be here. It’s not him.” He hates that he knows that. Believes it wholeheartedly. 

“Shit, well,” Rhodey says, throwing his hands up and looking at Happy. “Shit.”

“He knocked me over like a bowling pin?” Happy asks. “And subsequently—locked the three of us in a freezer?”

“Yeah, that was the first day,” Tony says. “His convincing tactic.”

“He could do it again,” Happy says. 

“Then he’s dead.”

“He’ll just come back the next day, right?” Rhodey asks. “Is that how it works?”

Tony sighs. “I’ll make his death really shitty if he even touches a hair on any of your heads, and he knows this.”

“Jesus,” Rhodey says, putting his hands on his hips and looking up at the ceiling. “How much shit do we have to get ourselves into?”

“Trust me, that’s all I’ve been thinking about,” Tony says.

They’re quiet for a second, and Tony rubs his temples, trying to kill the headache that’s forming in his skull. 

“So you think doing the dead guy activities might help?” Peter asks, his eyes wide as he nods his head. 

“Maybe,” Tony says, looking at him. 

“Then let’s—let’s go get Hammer,” Peter says. “Let’s do this.”

“Yeah,” Happy says. “Let’s go.”

~

“Yeah,” Justin says, leaning on his door frame. “I mean—sounds good, I haven’t exactly participated since I got here—more—floated in and out, you know, people watching—”

“Don’t wanna know,” Tony says. “You in?”

“Yeah, probably won’t work unless we’re both involved,” Justin says, and the way he says it irritates Tony to no goddamn end. He wouldn’t be in this shit if it wasn’t for him. He wishes every spare moment that he never opened those letters. 

“Lemme just go get dressed.”

Justin slips back inside the room and leaves the door open a little bit, and when Tony peeks inside he sees the wreck this asshole has somehow made of the room in the few hours of morning they’ve had since the reset. Tony exchanges a look with the others and shakes his head, encouraging them to stay out in the hallway as opposed to walking into this weirdo’s lair. 

“Did you go and set up shop at the theater?” Tony asks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Decided to sleep in this morning,” Justin calls. “Woke up, faced the existential dread, realized you were probably on your way—I’ll catch Kelly and Todd tomorrow.”

“Or later,” Tony says. “Just in case we need to use the phone.” He knows he needs to get the kid to call May again—it haunts him knowing that time is moving properly outside of this goddamn hell hole, and his skin crawls thinking of May worrying about Peter, about Pepper worrying about him. About the team wondering what the hell happened—they’ve all been clinging to each other since it all happened, and he knows if they track his movements, come looking, they’ll all get stuck too. Remembering or not remembering. Both fucking suck.

“All these phone calls,” Justin says. He walks back out, clad in two plaid shirts, jeans, and a big jacket, and he pulls his door shut behind him. “Okay, any plans? What d’you wanna do first?”

“God,” Tony says, dreading it. “Let’s just go see what looks easiest. We’ll probably have to go through all of them.”

“That might take a couple of days,” Justin says. 

That gets an audible response from the other three, who realize they’ll have to be reintroduced to this whole concept again and again and again until they get this done. And it might not even work, it might not even do anything, they might be wasting their goddamn time participating in this asinine celebration.

But they’ve gotta try.

“Let’s go find a schedule of events somewhere,” Happy says, with a huff. “Let’s get going, Jesus, let’s get this shit started.”

~

They’re sitting at a picnic table with about twenty other participants, each with a large cup in front of them containing a frozen slushie. Happy looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, and surprisingly enough, Justin’s expression nearly matches his.

“I get brain freezes very easily,” Happy says, leaning forward and meeting Tony’s eyes.

“So we’re not banking on you, then,” Tony says. “Good. Good to know.”

“We just have to be fastest?” Peter asks, from beside him. His hands flutter anxiously around his cup, and Tony can’t blame him for not wanting to touch it. It’s cold as shit and they’re not allowed to wear gloves in the contest.

“From what I’ve gathered,” Tony says, looking around. A few people at the end of the table are pumping themselves up like they’re about to jump into the boxing ring or something, and Tony hopes at least _one of them_ from his goddamn group can manage to win this thing. He doesn’t know how this works (and he wonders how many times he’ll have to think that exact phrase) but hopefully it doesn’t have to be him or Justin to win if this is, indeed, the fucking key to this horrific experience.

“Alright, everybody,” the older lady who’s running this shindig says, standing on a chair at the opposite end of the table. “At the sound of the bell, start your drinkin’.”

The judges or whatever the hell start looming over their shoulders and Tony rolls his eyes, exchanging a brief look with Justin. 

“I’m gonna burn my tongue off,” Tony says. “Like, cold burn.”

“We can do this,” Rhodey says. “We killed a Titan, for God’s sake.”

“Right, right,” Tony says, nodding. “That is something we did.”

“We can drink something really cold,” Rhodey says.

“We can,” Tony agrees. “We totally can.” He looks to his right and sees Peter grimacing, staring down into his cup. 

Then the bell rings.

Tony grabs his cup and tips it up towards his mouth, instantly feeling the freeze in his fingertips. He feels the sludgy cold hit his tongue and nearly chokes but swallows it anyway, and then he does choke, completely tossing the cup away from him without even fucking _meaning to_ , and he watches it sail through the air between Rhodey and Happy’s heads, both of them too concentrated on sucking down their own slushies to notice. 

Tony is horrified at his own ineptness and looks at Peter, sees him eyeing him from behind his cup, and then he slams it down on the table, his fingers wide and shaking but still holding onto the cup. Tony sees a good amount of slush still in there and Peter pouts down at it, but doesn’t let go.

“I’m stuck,” he says. “My fingers—I’m sticking to it.”

“Ugh,” Tony groans, hearing Justin make retching sounds beside him. He reaches over and grabs onto Peter’s wrists, carefully peeling his fingers away. “C’mon, Spidey,” he whispers, and Peter frowns heavily at him. 

They declare a winner somewhere near the middle of the table, and Rhodey lets out a choked holler as he tosses his cup away, hitting the guy that’s standing behind Justin in the chest. Justin puts his cup down just in time for the rest of Rhodey’s rejected beverage to dump on top of his head. Happy looked positively shitty a few seconds before but now he snorts at Justin’s misfortune, covering his face with his hands. 

“Okay, well,” Justin says, turning to look at Tony, the blue ice slipping down his forehead. “That went—wonderfully.”

~

Tony’s hands are falling asleep. Or falling off. Sinking into this ice water like his heart sinking into his gut when he realizes, for the thousandth time, that they’re stuck in Nederland, Colorado until the sun burns out and the world ends. 

“How much longer?” Peter says, from beside him, looking miserable with his own hands stuck in an old jug that used to hold fish heads or something equally as horrifying. 

“Can’t you count, kid?” Justin asks, his teeth already chattering. “Tony, did you not teach him to count?”

Tony, Rhodey and Happy all yell “shut up” at the same time, and the anger that surges through Tony’s veins warms him up, if only for a second. Peter looks a little self-satisfied for a moment before he remembers how cold he is, and then he goes back to looking depressed.

“Thirty more seconds!” the judge calls out—he’s an older man with a long white beard, like Santa’s skinnier cousin with a penchant for wearing overalls.

“Is this a good time to inform everybody that I have no idea how to change a flat tire?” Justin asks. 

Tony rolls his eyes so hard that he hurts himself. “That’s this whole fucking thing, Hammer,” he says. “Fix a frozen flat, you goddamn imbecile—”

“Alright, alright—”

“Christ,” Happy says. “We’re really doing a bang-up job here.”

“Alright!” the judge calls out. “Start working! Fix those frozen flats!”

Tony yanks his hands out of the bucket and grabs the new tire—well, he thinks he does, but he can only tell because he sees it happening—there’s no goddamn feeling in his fingers whatsoever. He holds it, stares at it, tries to convince himself he’s not hallucinating, and realizes quickly he’s wasting time. He turns to start his work and sees Rhodey’s tire rapidly rolling away through the haphazard line of people working.

“Uh, yeah,” Justin says, sitting back and turning to look at Tony. He gestures to the bike and breathes hot on his hands. “Yeah, I’ve got—no clue.”

~

They’re walking over to the frozen t-shirt contest tent when Tony catches the pissy look on Rhodey’s face. 

“Listen, I know this sucks, but we gotta keep at it,” Tony says, knocking him in the arm.

“I know,” Rhodey says, huffing a little bit. “I just thought we’d, you know—continue to take care of our human needs. Like bathroom breaks. Warmth breaks. Fuckin’—eat breaks.”

Tony stares at him. He looks back and forth between all the events they haven’t hit yet—they haven’t even concocted any goddamn costumes for the costume contest. “Do you need an eat break?” he asks.

Rhodey shrugs, but Tony knows what that means. He looks at Peter and Happy. “Do we all need eat breaks?”

“Am I not part of all?” Justin asks. “You’re not even looking at me.”

“You’re definitely not a priority,” Tony says, still not looking at him. “Eat break?” he asks again, looking back and forth between Happy and Peter. 

“We don’t _have_ to—”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Okay.”

~

“Okay, now she’s gonna bring the plate up, watch,” Justin says, gesturing with his half-eaten slice of bread. 

“We’re not watching,” Tony says, taking another sip of his tea. They’re sitting in a little bakery that’s nicer than half the damn town, and Peter looks warm, so that’s all that matters right now. 

“You don’t need to prove this shit to us,” Happy says, looking disgusted with him. “We already believe Tony.”

Peter’s eyes follow the girl anyway as she goes up to the counter to complain about her meal, just like Justin said she would. 

Tony looks down at the schedule of events he’s got half crumpled in his hands, which haven’t really recovered from the failed Fix a Frozen Flat event. He tries to focus on the here and now, the solving of the problem, not the panic threatening to rise, not anything about the outside world or everything they could lose. He doesn’t think about any of that. He thinks about how they’re enjoying their lunch, how it’s warm in here, how maybe, hopefully, if there’s a shred of luck in the world still, that one of these stupid fucking competitions might actually be fun.

“Oh shit,” he says, trailing his finger down the list. “There’s an oyster eating contest. Oh.” He reads the whole sentence. “Rocky mountain oysters.”

“Testicles,” Peter says, fast. “Those are cow testicles.”

“You don’t know how to count, but you do know that,” Justin says, clicking his tongue. 

“Pick on the kid one more time, I’m killing you,” Tony says. “I’ll stuff seventeen rocky mountain oysters down your throat, how’s that sound?”

Justin raises an eyebrow and Tony scoffs, so, so done with him.

_DAY FIVE_

“Wait,” Happy says. “How many did we get through yesterday?”

Tony feels manic. He knows Justin is gonna be at the door any minute because that’s what they agreed upon last night, and he’s already convinced them about the loop and everything, all of it, he’s already cried his fucking eyes out, he’s already nearly ripped his hair out because this shit is _not working._

“Everything but the frozen dead poet’s society reading because we couldn’t come up with anything and the frozen salmon toss, but it doesn’t matter—we didn’t win _anything_ ,” he says, pacing back and forth in front of his bed. 

“Tones, are you sure this isn’t some trick Hammer is playing?” Rhodey asks. “Feels like the kinda shit he’d do, pull this whole magical loop thing just to watch us make asses of ourselves—”

“No,” Tony says, shaking his head. “No, no—he’s stuck, and the dead guy events were my idea—it’s gotta have something to do with this dead guy thing, it has to—there’s gotta be a reason it was _this day_.” 

He shakes his head again, staring at their faces, standing in their silence. He looks at Peter and thinks of May again, thinks of the outside world. Peter got to talk to her last night, and he said it seemed fine—but the suspicions are coming, Tony knows they are. He feels like this is all on him, weighing on him, drowning him, he’s gotta fix it, he’s gotta fix it—

“Tony, it’s okay,” Peter says, softly. “We’re with you.”

Tony lets out a breath and nods at him. He looks at the others and they nod too, but there’s still that familiar horror behind their eyes. They believe him—their faith in him is there no matter what—but he knows they might be wondering if he’s keeping something from them, padding the facts, saying it’s been five repeats when really it’s been fifty.

He hopes it never has to come to that.

“What should we do first?” Happy asks. “What’s on the docket?”

~

“Just—slip your arm through,” Tony says, contending with the fucking frozen t-shirt that keeps sliding around in his hands. It’s not just wet—it lives up to the name, it’s frozen, wrinkles and all, little icicles clinging to it. He’s got his arms up in it but he can barely get his head through—he keeps trying to remold it, which is getting him nowhere. But somehow, Justin, out of all of them, is the furthest along, and seems like he’s doing better than half the other people in the contest. 

“I’m freezing,” Justin says, wiggling around, his left arm in the sleeve but his right giving him problems. “I’m gonna die.”

“You’re gonna die because we’re gonna kill you,” Rhodey says, standing there shirtless, choosing to try and warm up the shirt first before he even attempts to put it on. Tony doesn’t think it’s a winning strategy, but he doesn’t know fucking anything anymore. “Apparently we can do that now, and it’ll be fine.”

“That’s a shitty one way street,” Justin says, glaring at Tony.

Tony hears Peter’s teeth chattering and turns to look at him, since he still can’t get his head inside the shirt. Peter’s a little farther along than him, both arms and his head inside, but only his hands are sticking out of the short sleeves, and the shirt isn’t budging.

“Pete?” Tony says, grimacing. “You good?”

“Perfect,” Peter says, shaking, trying to get the shirt to fall down. “Just—so good.”

“Jesus, Tony,” Happy says. “I just broke off the edge of the shirt. Just—broke it right off.”

Tony is about to react to that when he hears a small _oh_ come from behind him. He turns around and sees Peter, with the shirt a little more on his arms than it was a few seconds ago, but there’s a line of blood running down his wrist. 

“Okay,” Tony says. “We’re done.”

“No, it’s fine,” Peter says. “I got this.”

“I’m seeing blood, I’m having flashbacks, we’re done,” Tony says, static running up and down his body as he quickly deposits his frozen shirt on the ground at his feet.

_DAY SIX_

“Today’s gonna be better,” Tony says, as they march across the street and towards the ice carving competition. “We’re not gonna mess up so much. We’re not even gonna try the turkey thing again. Not today. We know our limits.”

“Yeah that was…” Justin trails off, shaking his head. “Thought you’d handle your bird better, Haps.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Happy says, narrowing his eyes at him, even though he doesn’t remember what he’s talking about.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Peter says, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Me either, buddy,” Tony says, with a sigh. “Give it up for Justin Hammer, getting people involved in shit they don’t wanna be involved in.”

“Listen, I didn’t know you’d bring people,” Justin says. “I just wanted to get _you_ involved. Not your little found family.” He scoffs. “Shit, it’s been a lot easier than I thought it would be, though. They believe everything you say.”

“Not everything—”

“Definitely not everything—”

“He lies to me like, all the time—”

“Okay,” Tony says. “They believe me when it counts.”

“And I still think you have something to do with this,” Rhodey says, glaring at Justin.

~

“Okay, just breathe,” Tony says, his hands on Rhodey’s shoulder and back. “Just breathe.”

“I’m breathing,” Rhodey says, glaring up at him. He glares over at Justin too. “You’re the dickhead who dropped the goddamn thing.”

“I did not drop it,” Justin declares, brushing him off. 

The people behind them are gawking and Tony tugs Rhodey out of the snow and onto his feet, well—onto one foot, he keeps the injured one off the ground. This kinda thing—Rhodey even stubbing his damn toe—sends Tony into a downward PTSD spiral. 

“You dropped a coffin on him, man,” Happy says. “A coffin with a heavy fucking mannequin in it. Right on him.”

“On his _foot_ ,” Justin says, following as Peter situates himself on Rhodey’s other side, the three of them hobbling away from the site of the goddamn coffin races and towards the motel. “We were going too fast, anyway,” Justin says.

“We were trying to _win_ ,” Tony says, through gritted teeth.

~

“You were playing human foosball?” the nurse asks.

“Yes, for the fifth time—is it broken?” Happy asks, cradling his arm as he sits on the papered table in Nederland’s one small clinic.

“Might just be a bad sprain,” the nurse says, smiling at him. “I’ll be right back, just hold on a moment.”

“Oh, I’ll hold on,” Happy says, wincing as she walks out of the room.

Tony is stationed in the corner, leaning on the wall, in a state of panic. The kind of panic that rattles his brain and freezes him to the spot, freezes all motor functions, like he’s one of his bots malfunctioning. He stares at Happy, his likely broken arm, and the others, all looking blue in the cheeks. He bets he does too. 

He fucked up. He fucked up he fucked up he fucked up—

“Tony,” Happy says. “Hey. Earth to Tony.”

“Yes?” Tony asks, eyes finding his.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s probably just a bad sprain.”

“Yeah, that’s not fine.”

He remembers the last time Happy was in the hospital. It was horrific, this is nothing like that, but Tony can’t get it out of his head. These three people—not Justin, never Justin—they’ve all been hurt because of him. And now look what he’s fucking done.

His mind tells him it’ll be fine tomorrow. It’ll be like it never happened.

But today is tomorrow. Tomorrow is today. And again and again and again and again

_DAY SEVEN_

He’s in the office of the theater and Pepper’s voice is in his ear. He feels like he’s keeping something from her—because he is keeping something from her, and he knows it’s on the tip of his tongue. _I’m trapped, we’re trapped. I’m never coming home._

“So when are you coming home?” she asks. “There can’t be that much to do there.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” he says, pressing his fingers into his temple. “Uh—it’s been fun, yeah. Lots of people recognizing me, meeting lots of the locals—” He says it because it’s the opposite of the truth, nobody has recognized him and it’s _weird_ , but maybe they’re just not paying attention. He doesn’t know, it doesn’t matter. “Soon,” he says. “Soon. You’re doing okay, right? Baby okay?”

“Baby good,” Pepper says. “Baby kicking up a storm. Are you sold on the name Ava yet? Because Ava Maria is sounding better and better to me.”

“You just want me to sing that song every night,” Tony says, referring to _Ave Maria_. “You love my rendition.”

“You aren’t Andrea Bocelli, but—”

“I’ve got that song down _pat_ ,” he says. 

“The name, Tony!” she says. “Come on!”

Ava Maria Stark. The baby he’ll never meet because he’s going to be stuck in Nederland, Colorado until he dies. Will he die? Will he age? Jesus Christ. If this is immortality then he doesn’t want it. 

“I love it,” he says. 

“Really?” she asks. “It’s love, now?”

“It’s perfect,” he says, trying not to get choked up because that’ll definitely give him away. “But let’s, uh, officially decide when I come back.”

“Okay,” she says. “But that’s what I’m gonna call her. So she’s gonna get used to it.”

Tony smiles to himself. “Oh, is that right?”

“That’s right,” Pepper says. “Ava Maria Stark. I’m talking to your daddy, he’s on the phone.”

Tony clears his throat. “Yeah, just—keep reminding her I exist.”

“Trust me, I know,” she says. “Love you, babe.”

“Love you more.”

They hang up and Tony wipes at his eyes, and when he turns around he sees Peter leaning against the wall in the hallway, just outside the office. He spoke to May again before Tony called Pepper, and the whole loop thing is still fresh in his mind, considering Tony only convinced them an hour ago. 

He gets up, walks out of the office and over to Peter, putting his hand on his shoulder. “You okay?” he asks.

Peter swallows hard, staring off at a point behind Tony before he really looks at him. “How many times have you told us all this?” he asks.

“This is the seventh day,” Tony says. “Just, uh. Just seven days.” He tries not to make that sound like a lifetime, because it fucking feels like one.

“Not…not longer?” Peter asks. “You wouldn’t lie about that, right?”

“May would have sounded a lot more panicky and angry on the phone if it was longer,” Tony says. 

“Yeah,” Peter says.

“Time’s moving normal for them,” Tony says. 

“So why aren’t we calling for help?” Peter asks. 

“Well…one, whoever it was that came would get trapped,” Tony says. “And, uh—despite that—I called Strange, before I called Pepper. He didn’t answer.” Tony’s heart had nearly burst out of his chest while he waited for that phone to stop ringing. And like the final nail in the coffin—Strange’s goddamn magical ass doesn’t have his voicemail set up. What a dickhead. 

“Will you try again?” Peter asks.

Tony hates how lost he sounds. That’s not Peter—Peter’s a man with a plan, Peter is full of optimism and happiness, and this whole situation is really grating on him. “Yeah, I’m gonna,” Tony says, squeezing his shoulder. “Now let’s go—commiserate,” he says. “I know Justin’s a prick, but don’t worry, I’ve got him in check.”

Peter keeps staring down at his feet, shaking his head. He looks up at Tony. “I’m sorry this is happening to you,” he says. “I wish we remembered too.”

“No sorry’s from you,” Tony says, wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulders and leading him into the auditorium. “Shit, _I’m_ sorry—this is the last thing that I wanted to happen, all I want for the group of us is relaxing, fun—the occasional low-level villain for Spiderman to web up, you know. I didn’t think snowy little Nederland would have something like this waiting in the wings.”

“We’ll get out of it,” Peter says, as they turn the corner and meet up with the others. “I know we will.”

The _you’ll get us out_ is implied, maybe not, maybe it’s the voice in Tony’s own head that needs him to stay on top of this, on top of everything, but he sees the trust and reliance in the kid’s eyes and he knows it’s on him. Justin isn’t gonna do shit, and the others are in the dark, by some kind of cosmic stroke of circumstance. He doesn’t know what the hell is supposed to be happening here.

Peter sits down in the last seat in the row next to Happy, and Tony stands there, putting his hands on his hips.

“This dead guy shit isn’t working,” he says. “We weren’t—managing it, at all, like…at all.”

“Did I really break my arm?” Happy asks.

“Yes,” Tony says. 

“Rhodey, you gave yourself a concussion trying to make an ice sculpture, Pete, you nearly chopped off one of your fingers in the salmon toss, don’t even ask, it was—a goddamn horror story, and Hammer—nearly choked to death on rocky mountain oysters. Which made me laugh, but it still happened.”

“Aren’t those—”

“Yes, Peter, they are,” Tony says, pointing at him. 

“Your kid’s got a fixation,” Justin says, narrowing his eyes.

“No, he’s just chock full of information,” Tony says. “Anyway, I want to take a new course of action. I feel like—if it’s not the day, maybe it’s the place. Maybe the town needs something.”

“Needs something?” Rhodey asks. “Like what? What can we give them, just us? If we had access to the real world, sure, but the goddamn loop, if it is what you say—”

“I think it’s gotta be something we can give on our own,” Tony says. “Like…community service.”

Justin groans, arching his neck back and rolling his eyes. 

“Of course you hate community service,” Happy says. “Of course you hate the very idea of helping people.”

“We can’t help these people,” Justin says, straightening up again and shaking his head at Tony. “If you do recall, I’m the one that’s been suffering here for the longest, and I know these assholes—”

“You know them on a very basic level where you’re trying to figure out whether to kill them or fuck them,” Tony says. “There are plenty of opportunities for help, here—we know firsthand that a bunch of them have been hurting themselves in this dead guy thing, we know people are having heart attacks, we know a _car_ is driving around _killing people_ —”

“We didn’t die,” Justin says, pointing at him. “We almost died. But we didn’t die.”

“There are plenty of things we can do,” Tony says, ignoring him. “And maybe that’s—maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s why it made me remember too, because asshole over here was never gonna do anything and that’s what it wanted.”

Justin scoffs.

“I’m in, for whatever it is,” Happy says. “I don’t wanna be stuck here, I don’t want _you_ to be stuck here—”

“Same,” Rhodey says. “I don’t want you stuck with this prick for one second longer than you need to be, and you don’t need to be.”

“Guys, I’m not _that bad_ ,” Justin says, laughing.

“We need to get you out,” Peter says, determined. 

“Alright,” Tony says, his chest going a little tight with emotion. “Uh, let’s get to work.”

“Ugh, Jesus,” Justin says. “This is not gonna be fun.”

~

Tony runs as fast as he can, but the dog is faster. The kids are on his heels and the rest of them are behind them, except for Peter, who’s a couple paces in front of Tony.

They’re all yelling the same thing.

“Jeff! Jeff! C’mon, Jeff!”

The dog in the skeleton costume is black with brown patches and seems like a giant puppy, and Tony isn’t sure if he even knows his name is Jeff. 

“Do you guys have—any treats or anything?” Rhodey asks, breathing hard as he runs, his footfalls loud and sloshing in the snow.

“He knows we’re chasing him!” one of the kids yells. “He doesn’t approach! He just stands about fifteen feet away and makes us throw them to him!”

“Don’t give in to him, kid!” Tony yells. “You make him come for the treats! You are the boss! You are the alpha!”

“I got him!” Peter yells, speeding up.

“Don’t trip!” Tony yells. “Don’t slip, c’mon!” He’s having horrible visions of the kid losing his footing, cracking his goddamn head open, but instead he slides like a baseball player, cuts off the dog and makes him run straight into his arms. 

“Oh Jesus,” Happy yells, breathing hard and skidding to a stop. “Thank God.”

Tony catches up to the kid in the grass and watches him laugh, watches as the dog licks his face and huddles in his lap. 

“Hi Jeff,” Peter says, grinning and patting the dog’s side. “Hey, buddy!”

Tony smiles to himself, shaking his head.

~

“Why dead flowers?” Peter asks the little girl, as she diligently rearranges them in their vases.

“For Frozen Dead Guy Day,” she says. 

Tony and Peter are sitting with her and her sister on their extra small child-sized chairs, while Rhodey and Happy are trying to flag people down to get them to come buy the merchandise. Justin is standing behind them with his arms crossed over his chest, and Tony doesn’t lose an opportunity to turn and glare at him. 

“Is this, uh, the first year you’re doing this?” Peter asks.

The older one smiles at him. “I did it last year, but she wasn’t old enough. Now she is, so we made them together.”

“And your parents are good with you being out here alone?” Tony asks, thinking of his own future daughter and how she’ll have security or a superhero with her at all times. 

“Their parents are over there playing human foosball,” Justin asserts, jutting his chin out over towards that direction. “Their dad is the guy wearing the purple parka.”

“The one that broke Happy’s arm?” Tony asks.

“That’s the one.”

“Daddy broke somebody’s arm?” the younger girl asks, looking over her shoulder at Justin.

“No,” Tony says, clearing his throat. 

“Alright,” Happy says, ushering a group of about five people over towards the table. “Here are some more prospective customers.”

Peter twirls one of the flowers between his fingers, the glitter of it catching the sunlight.

~

Tony carries the bag of pepperonis like they’re a bag of gold. Peter holds the pizzeria door open for him and Tony ignores Justin’s groan of disapproval from somewhere near the back of the group. He walks right up to the counter and rings the bell, standing up straight and waiting for service. The closest waiter turns and looks at him, at the bag, and at him again. 

“Listen, kind sir,” Tony says, putting the pepperoni bag on the counter. “There’s a little place on third, seems like they’re going out of business? Maybe the town should work on that, try and lift them up—anyways, they have a surplus of pepperonis, and you—do not. Redistribution, we’re figuring it out—but if we have to do this again, remember one thing. Mario’s on third.”

“Mario’s on third,” the waiter says, looking a little spellbound by the pepperonis.

“Good,” Tony says, patting the counter. “Perfect.” He turns and nods at the others, and Justin groans again, pushing his way out of the door.

“Good job, Tones,” Rhodey says, patting Tony on the shoulder.

“Yeah,” Happy says. “That was important.”

Peter is chewing something as they walk outside and Tony nudges him. “What are you eating?”

Peter grins.

“Did you _steal one?_ ”

“Maybe.”

Tony shakes his head but he can’t help but smile. “If they run out by one, I swear, kid—”

~

“Sir!” Tony can hear Peter say. “Sir, sir!”

“What is it?” the guy snaps, and Tony narrows his eyes, looking over Rhodey. They’re both kneeling around one corner in a back alleyway close to a parking lot, while Happy and Justin are hiding across the way. They’re close to the stupid brain freeze tent and they can hear all the hollering and cheering as well as if they were right inside it, contaminated nuts and all.

They tracked the red car asshole here, and as much as Tony didn’t want to put Peter up front and center, he’s doing good at getting the dickhead’s attention. 

“I think you dropped something back there,” Peter says. “Looked like it fell out of your pocket. I think it was money.”

“Oh shit,” the guy says. “Thanks, little man.”

“No problem, bud,” Peter says, with that self-satisfied tone. 

Tony looks over at Justin, who actually seems happy to be participating in this particular event to help the town. He looks intent, and Tony worries for a brief second, even though they set down the no killing rule—this guy is a dickhead, liable to kill somebody in every fucking loop they have to endure, but Tony doesn’t exactly want to _kill him_. Maybe if he had been more aware of his condition and that of those around him after the accident, he’d be more inclined towards murderous tendencies. 

But for now, just a good beat down will suffice.

They hear the guy’s footfalls coming around the corner, and as soon as he comes into Tony’s line of sight he jumps out, decking him across the face. He sweeps his legs out from under him and knocks him down, and both Rhodey and Justin kick him before Happy lands another punch. Tony tries not to knock them out of the way as he takes hold of the dickhead’s shirt collar, yanking him in. He’s a young, frat boy type, and his eyes are wide and panicked.

“Listen, asshole,” Tony says. “You better drive like a fucking Grandma the rest of the day, and the rest of your goddamn life if you want to continue living, you hear me? I want full stops at stop signs, no goddamn rolling stops—I want you to let somebody beep at you, that’s how slow you’re taking off when lights turn green—”

“Uh—uh—”

“You’re gonna kill somebody if you don’t slow the fuck down,” Tony says, shaking him, and he hears a _yeah!_ from behind him coming from Happy. Justin leans in and punches the guy out of Tony’s grip, and Tony scoffs, shaking his head at him. The guy blinks, dazed, and Tony puts a fist on his chest to keep him down. “Understand? Iron Man is gonna totally _destroy_ your ass if you drive over fifteen miles per hour around here. I don’t care what the fucking speed limit is. Get me?”

“Got you,” the guy says, wiping some blood from under his nose.

“Good.”

“Lemme hit him again,” Justin says, leaning on Tony’s shoulder.

“No,” Tony says. “Just. Back up.”

“What is—what is Iron Man doing in Nederland?” the guy gasps, staring at him. 

“Trust me, speed demon, I’m asking myself the same question.”

~

“Ma’am,” Tony says, taking the old lady’s hand and leading her back towards the General store. “Have you been for a check-up lately? A physical?” He eyes the Chevy that’s backfired every other day, sees Justin and Rhodey talking to the owner. 

She looks at him from behind her wide frames, which make her eyes look two times their normal size, and she gapes. “Why, you’re Tony Stark,” she says, clutching his hand a little tighter. 

“Why, yes,” he says, grinning at her. “You know, you’re the first person to actually recognize me. Or—actually acknowledge that you’re recognizing me. Before I have to refer to myself, usually in the third person—anyways, yeah.”

“Oh, I love Iron Man, sweetheart,” she says, beaming at him. “You’ve been my favorite for some time, you saved my granddaughter in Queens in 2010, when those horrible robots were attacking the city.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony asks, as they step up onto the sidewalk. He cuts a look over at Justin and Rhodey again, wonders what this woman would think if she knew the creator of the robots was just a few feet to her left. He leads her inside the General Store, where he sees Peter and Happy are lending a hand so the place doesn’t have to close early like it has been. “Well, Iron Man is here, and Iron Man says to get that sweet heart of yours checked out ASAP.”

“I have been putting off my appointments,” she says, the fluorescent lights shining on her face once they’re inside. “You think there’s something wrong?”

He hums to himself, still holding onto her hand. “Hmm, maybe,” he says, thinking of the other days when the poor thing was splayed out on the concrete of the parking lot and half the town was swarming over to help, nearly trampling everybody in their path. “I’ve got heart problems, you gotta stay on top of it. I’d go get it checked out—just to be sure—just try and remember, okay? Remember real hard. Remember enough to dream about it tonight, alright?”

“Oh, I have very vivid dreams,” she says, and maybe the look she gives him is a little lecherous, he isn’t sure.

“Oh wow,” he laughs, patting her hand. “Me too.”

He hears a loud backfire outside and they both twist around to look.

“What in the world was that?” the woman asks, looking alarmed.

“Nothing,” Tony says, staring down at her again. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” she says, her forehead creased. “Just a—very loud noise.”

He’s glad she was far enough away that it wasn’t too damn loud. 

~

Tony doesn’t know what they can remember. If the dream lead is a lead at all or just a hope in his helpless mind, a thread that he’s latching onto that might not lead anywhere. But they sit in the lodge cafeteria eating soup and grilled cheese and he hopes he’s right—he hopes what they did today meant something. Will stick somehow with the people they helped, will guide them in tomorrow’s repeat, a little nagging voice that sounds like his own tugging them in the right direction.

“That sucked,” Justin says, playing with his straw.

“What is wrong with you?” Rhodey asks. “For real?”

“Sociopath,” Tony says, shrugging. 

“These people are worthless,” Justin says, leaning in and looking at them like he’s sharing a secret. “They’re not worth our time.”

“That’s why you’re stuck,” Peter says, quietly. “You don’t have any empathy, you—I mean, I think this is trying to teach you a lesson. And you don’t wanna learn it.”

“Why’s Tony stuck, then?” Justin asks, raising his eyebrows. “What’s his lesson?”

“Well, he’s having a baby, maybe the universe is trying to teach him patience in dealing with a toddler like you,” Peter says, simply.

Tony barks out a laugh just as Rhodey snorts and Happy covers his smile with his hands. Tony throws an arm around Peter’s shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I think that’s one of your finest moments, Pete.”

“Thanks!”

“Yeah, laugh it up,” Justin says. “You’re still stuck. You’re still stuck!”

“Maybe if you would actually participate in the group projects,” Tony says, cocking his head at him. 

“I participated plenty,” Justin says. “I definitely know how to fix that guy’s car tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure,” Rhodey says. “You were just trying to make it backfire faster.”

The idea of tomorrow—another today—hangs heavy in the air. Tony tugs at Peter’s shoulder a few more times before letting him go, and he takes another bite of his grilled cheese.

~

Peter’s voice cuts through the darkness in the room that night, and Tony can barely see him over in the other bed, among his many blankets. 

“Tomorrow, tell me you know about sandwich the dog.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “Sandwich the dog?” 

“His real name was Blaise, but he was a corgi I found the day you texted me about this trip,” Peter says. “I found his owners through Facebook, but I called him Sandwich because he ate the ham sandwich I had.”

For some reason, that makes tears spring to Tony’s eyes. Peter’s life before he took it away—before he dragged him out here and got him into this. He hates how he knows tomorrow will just be more of the same, and as much as Tony wants to think their efforts today will result in time moving on, the loop dissipating and leaving them alone, he knows disappointment is on the horizon. He hopes, he hopes—God, he hopes he’s wrong.

“Sandwich the dog,” Tony says, clearing his throat. “Got it.”

A week is enough of this. They deserve to get out. They deserve to get the fuck out of here, out of the mistake Justin made and is paying for. Shit, even if he gets out, Tony will do right there, he’ll put him in jail and make sure he stays. 

_Just let us out. Let us out. Let them out._

_DAY EIGHT_

_So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me_  
_SOS_  
_The love you gave me, nothing else can save me_  
_SOS_

Tony’s eyes snap open and his heart sinks. The despair grabs him again and he swallows hard, shaking his head, listening to Peter shift and groan like he always does.

“I don’t even remember you setting an alarm.”

Tony blows out a breath. He sits up, leans over, his bones cracking, and turns over the alarm clock, shutting off the music. 

Peter rolls onto his back. “God, I forgot where we were for a second there.”

Tony sits on the edge of his bed and dips his head into his hands. These early moments, in the beginning of the loop, are when he feels the worst, when he feels like the whole world is leaving him behind, when he doesn’t know how to approach anyone or anything. When he just wants to lay down and not get up.

“Peter,” he says. “Uh—the alarm went off a little early, you can go back to sleep. I gotta go take care of something.”

When he looks up he sees Peter eyeing him suspiciously. Tony can’t bring himself to say it all right now, he can’t—he thinks about Sandwich the dog and everything Peter had before he brought hm here and his heart breaks, it feels like everything is collapsing around him and he can’t fix it. He can’t fix it. 

“What do you need to take care of?” Peter asks, sounding a little more awake now.

“Just something in town, but I’ll be back,” he says. “And if you get worried, just go over to the theater across the street and wait there, I’ll meet back up with you.”

Peter sits up, bracing himself on his elbows. “The theater—what—what’s going on?”

“I can’t explain it right now,” Tony says, his voice breaking. “But something is—something is. Going on. I’ll tell you later. I gotta, I gotta—” He gets to his feet. He doesn’t know what he’s gotta do, he has no idea what’s in his head, he feels like he finally might be scrambled beyond recognition and he can’t explain it, he can’t explain it right now, his goddamn failures—he’s just gotta go keep helping—but he can’t disappear on the kid, not like he did before. “I’m okay,” he says, making eye contact with Peter. He hears Cher in the other room. “I’m okay, you’re okay, they’re okay—something’s going on, but right now I just—I can’t, I gotta go do something but we’ll be okay. I’m—I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” Peter says, getting out of bed.

“I’m fine,” Tony says, rushing over to his suitcase. His mind falters because he didn’t leave it like this last night, but he should fucking know that because loop—loop—the goddamn loop. He searches through for a good warm outfit and then the adjoining door opens, _Believe_ streaming in louder.

Happy’s appearance panics him even more and he knows he’s being selfish, he has to tell them, he has to, and he’ll have to tell them a thousand times, a million, they’ve finally cracked immortality and it’s being stuck on the same day in Nederland, better than the goddamn fountain of youth—

He collapses down and clutches his jacket against his face, dissolving into tears. He hates himself, he hates crying, he hates everything. He misses Pepper, he wants Pepper.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” Happy asks. “Rhodey!”

“Tony,” Peter says, and Tony feels his hands on his shoulders.

_I need time to move on_  
_I need a love to feel strong_  
_Cause I've got time to think it through_  
_And maybe I'm too good for you_

“Tony, what’s going on?” Rhodey’s voice asks. “You okay?”

Tony drags the jacket down his face and meets Peter’s eyes. “You, uh—you saved a corgi, you named him Sandwich. The day I told you about this trip.”

Peter’s eyes narrow and Tony hiccups a little bit, trying not to feel like a goddamn child. 

“How did you know that?” Peter asks.

Tony’s heart lurches and he shakes his head. He looks around at all three of them. “Do you trust me?”

~

“So he didn’t choke this time?” Tony asks, as Justin catches back up with them. 

“He did not choke this time,” Justin says. “Saved him in the nick of time, told him to eat slower, we’re good.”

“Good,” Tony says, with a sigh. He doesn’t feel like his heart is in it today, and the others are still reeling from the goddamn revelations that he presented them with, from his panicked heap on the motel room floor. He had Peter call May again, and he hates the way the kid sounds when he’s lying, especially when he’s not exactly sure how much he’s lying about. He knows this is gonna get real old real fast, and then he’s gonna have to deal with someone—May, Pepper, the team, who the fuck knows—rolling up in here in the ‘flux hours’ and getting stuck because he couldn’t solve the loop puzzle. He’s dreading the day. Dreading when their voices on the other end of the line are less than inclined to believe his lies and his procrastinating of the fucking real story.

“Eight days,” Happy says, for the third or fourth time in the last hour. “Jesus.”

“What else do we need to do?” Peter asks, shoulder to shoulder with Tony. 

“I’m not sure,” Tony says, taking another uneasy step down the sidewalk. The snow is getting to him, the cold is getting to him, the dead guy shit everywhere is getting to him. He sees the kids and Jeff rushing down the street and he clears his throat. Nothing they did yesterday meant anything. Nothing stuck in these people’s brains, nothing is getting them close to remembering, any flashing vision of them rising up and working together because they _remember too_ is fizzling out in his brain like a flame caught in the wind.

He feels like he’s gonna cry again, he feels like the weakest person on the planet, he has no direction or idea and he needs a sign. 

They’re walking by a bunch of storefronts a couple streets over from the main drag in Nederland, where the dead guy festivities are a little more muted but still way too loud for Tony’s liking. 

“You boys look like a dancing group,” a woman’s voice says. Tony looks up and sees her standing there, in the doorway of a shop with wide bright windows, the words _GEMMA’S BALLROOM STUDIO_ painted in pink letters near the top. 

Tony stops, looks at her. She’s got dark hair and is wearing a long skirt that sways at the bottom, hitting the dirty floor. “You Gemma?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” she says. “You guys interested in a free lesson? In honor of old Bredo, of course.”

“That’s the frozen dead guy,” Justin mutters. “And hell yes we’re interested. Hell yes.”

“Uh,” Happy says. “Aren’t we supposed to be helping—”

“Wait,” Tony says, and Happy stops talking.

Maybe this is the sign. Maybe. It’s the first thing that’s been exclusively offered to them since they got here, and Pepper has wanted him to learn ballroom dancing since—forever. Maybe that’s why they’re stuck. Maybe they’re here to _learn_ things. Maybe there are different opportunities all around town that they haven’t discovered yet. Maybe this is one of them.

“What?” Happy asks.

“Let’s do it,” Tony says. “Let’s dance.”

“Dance?” Rhodey asks. “Tony…I know you’re going through a lot—”

“No, no,” he turns, raising his eyebrows. “Maybe this is something we’re supposed to do.”

“Ballroom dance?” Peter asks, eyes wide.

“Ballroom dance.”

~

“One two three one two three…c’mon, boys!”

“Never thought I’d be ballroom dancing with you,” Happy says, clutching Tony’s right hand, the other around his waist. “I’m telling Pepper.”

“Well I’m telling _the police_ ,” Rhodey says. No, yells. Tony can’t even look over there, because Rhodey is dancing with Justin and Tony won’t be able to not laugh if he actually looks. “This is a betrayal, Tones.”

“Like he ever would have let the little man dance with me,” Justin says, swinging Rhodey around. “You knew it was gonna be you or Hogan.”

Peter is dancing with the instructor, and he keeps staring down at their feet, seemingly keeping his distance from her best as he can.

“Great job, Peter!” she says.

“Miss Gemma,” Tony says. “How long until we’re experts at this? Asking for a friend.”

“Experts?” she laughs.

“Tony…” Happy trails off, squeezing his hand as they turn in a circle.

“I bet at this rate, you’d be pretty good in a couple hours…”

“Tony,” Rhodey says. 

“Sounds wonderful, Tony,” Justin says, swinging his hips. “Another beautiful Stark idea.”

Tony snorts, shaking his head.

“He’s gonna kill you,” Happy says.

“I’ll just come back to life tomorrow.” He looks down. “Hap, don’t step on my toes. C’mon, rule number one.”

“Gimme a break.”

~

“Why did we have to pick a soufflé?” Tony asks, kneeling down in front of the oven and staring at the infernal thing, threatening to collapse like his whole goddamn life.

“You said you wanted the most difficult thing next, well,” the chef says. “You paid enough.”

“I don’t want it to fall.”

“Ours looks good,” Peter says. Horrifyingly enough he’s paired with Justin this time around but strangely, they seem to be doing the best with what they’ve been given. They all made fried chicken first, then a cheesecake, and now a soufflé. 

“I’m a great cook, kid,” Justin says, looking way too proud.

“We’re gonna be experts at these three recipes like…soon,” Tony says. 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Rhodey says, with a sigh. “Ours just fell.”

“C’mon, Rhodey!” Tony says, throwing his hands up.

“Don’t harass us,” Happy says. “You’re gonna lose yours soon, too.”

“Don’t jinx me.”

~

It’s very quiet.

“I feel like we’re in a sewing circle,” Rhodey says, leaning in close to Tony’s shoulder. 

“Macramé circle,” Tony whispers.

This place is right behind the Carousel of Happiness, and most of the people in here are women over the age of sixty. He expected sewing, he’s been wanting to get better at sewing, but he got Macramé. Which is fine. He’s making some kind of tapestry thing, listening to the soft-spoken woman in white who occasionally pipes up with some instruction.

“What are we gonna do with this skill?” Justin whispers. “Huh? How is this—”

“Shhhhhh!” Happy hisses, loudly. “I’m trying to concentrate here, dickhead.”

Tony looks over and sees that Peter is at least—ten steps ahead of them, maybe more. He’s got little gold charms weaved in there, and the braids go down over his knees. He looks up at Tony and grins. 

“Jesus, kid, little genius over here.”

“I’m good at stuff like this,” Peter says, beaming.

A few quiet moments go by, and then Justin laughs. “This thing looks like a sex swing,” he says, holding his up. 

All of them stop smiling.

~

They’re sitting in the back room of the theater, watching Groundhog Day. Nothing has felt more surreal. Nederland happens to have a little Family Video rental store, which still carried VHS tapes, and now they’re watching Bill Murray steal the groundhog and crash the truck they’re both in. 

Peter eyes Tony and shifts a little bit on the old leather couch. 

“So don’t kill yourself,” Happy says. “Clearly, it doesn’t work.”

Tony doesn’t know what the hell would work here. But he doesn’t want to kill himself. He doesn’t want to think that way, especially with the kid anywhere near him, especially with Pepper out there waiting, their child on the way. It’s the same thing—if he dies, the loop might stop. And then he’ll be fucking dead. He’s afraid to risk it, and he hopes that’s not the thing the loop needs.

“Heh, he’s got Cher too,” Happy says.

Bill Murray electrifies himself in his own tub. He gets hit by a truck. He jumps off a clock tower. Andie McDowell and the other guy see his dead body and mourn him, and a chill runs down Tony’s spine. This shit isn’t a comedy, especially when you’re in it.

“It was trying to get him to be a better person,” Peter says. “It was—he had to stop trying so hard, stop trying to convince her and just—be a normal, real—good person.” He looks over at Justin pointedly.

“What?” Justin asks, throwing out his hand. “I’m great, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“We’re never getting out of here,” Rhodey mutters, shaking his head.

~

They learn a good lot of Greek from some old guy inside the Bourbon and Brews tent, which is a language Tony has always been interested in getting into. They get moderately good at ice sculpting, way better than Justin did in the beginning with the ridiculous statue of “Howard”. They learn to play the piano thanks to some mom named Gina whose kid is in the dead guy costume contest. 

Tony wonders if it’s enough.

_DAY NINE_

That morning, he tries not to have a panic attack. He takes them to breakfast, tells them there. He doesn’t know how many times he’s gonna be able to take the heartbreak when he sees the looks on their faces. And then the horror, anger, defensiveness when they see Justin, when parts of Tony’s story are confirmed.

They keep trying to learn. They cook again, they make more advanced ice sculptures and actually win the dead guy sculpting competition. Peter talks to May on the phone, and Tony talks to Pepper, later in the night, around ten. 

“This is becoming a long trip,” she says, wariness in her voice.

“Yeah, we’re having a great time,” he says, clearing his throat. 

“You sure?” she asks. “You sure there’s…not something going on?”

“Nope,” he says. “All good, just—spending some quality time.”

“Wish I was there with you,” she says, softly.

He winces a little bit, like he’s been smacked, and nods to himself. “I wish you were everywhere with me. I hate being—hate being separated from you, you know that. Love when I’m laid up and you follow me everywhere around the house.”

“Even to the bathroom.”

“Even to the bathroom,” he laughs. 

“Well, let me know when you guys are on your way back,” she says. “I’ll make it a nice homecoming.”

“Thanks, hon,” Tony says, clearing his throat again. “I’ll, uh—you know I’ll let you know.”

~

Tony and Justin are standing in the hallway of the motel, down at the end of the hall by the window where they can see the ‘flux hours’ in full flight. The weird, other-worldly darkness, nobody on the streets, all sign of Dead Guy Day packed away.

“We need to try to escape again,” Tony says, staring out the foggy glass.

Justin sighs, and somehow it feels uncharacteristic. “As much as we wanna think it works that way, I feel like this thing only brings new people in, doesn’t—doesn’t let ‘em out.”

“We should still try,” Tony says. He hates the idea of opportunities passing them by, but he also hates the idea of them freezing to death out there because the loop refuses to let them go. He should build a fucking suit. But then he’d need five suits. And he knows this place doesn’t have the goddamn supplies, not even at the scrapyard. They’ve looked.

“Hey, uh,” Justin says, clearing his throat. “I guess, I’m—I guess I’m sorry.”

Tony looks up at him. Shocked as shit. “Uh—are we falling into an alternate universe? Because I can’t deal with anymore magic shit.” 

Justin shakes his head but doesn’t look at him. “You know, I just didn’t really—I guess I was just thinking about myself when I called you.”

“You think?” Tony asks, his brow furrowing. He doesn’t know what the hell is happening here.

“Just—I don’t know, shit, I mean, the whole time I was here alone the only thing I was actively doing was sending letters to you. Walking around a little bit, messing around with people, but—you’ve been trying so gosh darn hard,” he says, laughing, but it sounds empty. “I don’t know, like I said, I just—I’m sorry I got you into this.”

Tony doesn’t wanna say _it’s okay_ because it’s not, but he knows how insincere Justin is on a daily fucking basis, and horrifyingly enough, he sounds sincere now.

“I know you’ve got people, I know you—brought some of your people, you hate that they’re stuck in this and I’m—shit, well, I shoulda told you to come alone,” Justin says. “Or maybe I—” he laughs again, but he has a sour look on his face. “Maybe I should have just tried to figure it out on my own. I know it was something I did that got you in on it, you know _in_ on it with the fucking—remembering bullshit.” He looks up, meets Tony’s eyes. “I don’t know what it is, but it had to have been me. Got no fuckin’ clue but I know that much.”

“Are you like…trying to trick me, here?” Tony asks. “Into feeling bad for you or some shit?”

“No, I was just—thinking about all of it,” Justin says. “Maybe I’m the one that feels bad. Like, for real, for real.”

Tony stares at him, and looks out the window again. He doesn’t know what the hell is going on in his mind, why he’s actually feeling bad for this lunatic, and he watches the empty parking lot. “We’re gonna get out,” Tony says, not looking at him. “We’re gonna get out, I’m probably gonna punch you in the face a couple more times, and you’re gonna go back to jail.” He looks at him then. “But I am gonna get you out.”

_DAY TEN_

_So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me_  
_SOS_  
_The love you gave me, nothing else can save me_  
_SOS_

Tony covers his face with his hands. For a brief moment, he thinks about laying here, never getting up again. Letting the days pass and pass and pass with panic from the others and no effort from him. He thinks that a lot. Wonders what would happen.

But he’s gotta get up.

Peter groans in the other bed. “I don’t even remember you setting an alarm.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, clearing his throat. He reaches over, turning off the alarm like clockwork. “Yeah, I, uh—it’s for me, I need to go to see about something.” He gets up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “Gimme a couple minutes and I’ll be back—uh, just sleep, okay bud?”

Peter shifts a little bit and narrows his eyes at him. Tony tries not to let it affect him, he tries not to look—he goes through the motions of what he’s done before, quietly sneaking into the other room and turning off the alarm between Rhodey and Happy before either one of them can wake up. He’s gotta keep up this learning shit, he’s gotta keep trying, gotta keep getting better, and his heart weeps at the idea of involving them again, putting them through this bullshit that may seem inane to them but might be the key to everything to him. 

He doesn’t look at Happy and Rhodey, just walks back into the room where Peter is still craning his neck to look at him. He’s got tiredness tugging at his eyes but he’s intent anyway, and Tony flashes him a small smile. He doesn’t wanna have another breakdown, he doesn’t wanna keep secrets, but his brain is malfunctioning and no version of doing this works for him. Nothing gives him the courage he so desperately needs to summon up. He’s just gotta keep his fucking head in the game. He’ll go and meet Justin, do a couple things, then come back. 

He looks at Peter and feels like something breaks inside him. This is the Peter that doesn’t know, and it’s almost like he dies every day, all of them, the Peter he knew last night and all of yesterday gone forever. He wants him back, he wants their fucking lives back, and he doesn’t know where to turn, what route to take, nothing, _nothing_ makes sense anymore.

“What’s going on?” Peter asks, slowly, sitting up on his elbows.

Tony stares at him. Sees all the possibilities, all the past versions and all the future ones. His mind is a mess of static and uncertainty, but he walks over and stands beside Peter’s bed all the same.

“I need you to trust me,” Tony says. And usually he follows that with a story, _the_ story, but right now it catches in his throat like the beginnings of a cold.

“Can I go with you?” Peter asks.

Tony doesn’t know what he’s gonna go do, or why he doesn’t want them along right now, but he’s got a bad feeling prickling at the back of his neck. He can’t pick out the reasons, he doesn’t plan on doing anything dangerous, maybe go back to the dancing place, maybe learn some more tunes on the piano, see if there’s anywhere he can learn guitar. But something makes him want to keep them out of it—for now.

“Not yet,” Tony says. “But I’ll be back—an hour, at most. Okay? Can you—tell the others for me?”

“I don’t like this,” Peter says, looking petulant. 

“Me either, kid,” Tony says. “But I need you to trust me.”

~

“So you were afraid something was gonna happen while we were ice skating?” Justin asks, wobbling along beside him. Their skates are too big, and it isn’t making this shit any easier. But there’s no one to teach them and Tony’s done it enough times in the past to think he can pick it up quick. He can become an expert at this in an hour. Totally.

“I didn’t know we were gonna go ice skating, we figured that out together.”

“Does that mean you decided it and dragged me along with you? Because that’s—wait—Anthony—is this a date?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Tony says, rolling his eyes and skating away from him. He tries desperately not to fall because that would just make him look stupid, but he hears Justin coming after him, laughing.

“So tell me more about your bad feelings—or all your feelings—”

Tony shakes his head, really just wanting to not talk to him at all, but the nagging feeling is still clinging to him. “Do you sometimes feel like you—you, uh—can see all the possibilities all at once? Like all the things that could happen here—that have happened—that are going to happen?”

“Yeah,” Justin says, breathing a little hard as he struggles to catch up. “But I think that’s just us anticipating—I mean, this is a shitty situation, a real, real shitty situation, that we’re caught up in—together—”

“Alright,” Tony says. They skate towards the other side of the lake, and the snow is falling in flurries all around them. There are only a few other people skating, most of the town tied up in dead guy antics like usual.

“You’re pretty good at this already,” Justin says, coming back into Tony’s line of sight. He moves backwards, tries to move his feet in and out like a figure eight but fails in an epic fashion, laughing all the way.

“Used to skate a lot with my mom,” Tony says. He clears his throat, gets a brief flash of Rockefeller Center and that red jacket she used to wear. She’d swing his hand back and forth as they went, keeping him close to the wall just in case.

Justin is like ten feet away now and he’s got a stupid dreamy look on his face like he’s listening intently, but then his face falls, and he looks down at his feet.

“What?” Tony asks, narrowing his eyes. 

“Oh fuc—” Justin says, cut off as he disappears. Tony blinks at the blank patch of air for a second, feeling like he’s fucking malfunctioning, but then he sees the break in the ice where Justin was standing a moment beforehand and everything comes together. 

“Shit, shit,” Tony says, skating over, his heart rattling in his chest. He tries to skate straight and stumbles, falling down, and for a second he’s worried he’s gonna fall through the ice too. He hears the cracking, can almost feel himself choking, drowning, and that’s happening to Justin right now, right now, oh God, oh _God_ —

“Buddy, back up!” Tony hears, a voice behind him, but he crawls forward anyway, stripping off his jacket and sinking his arm into the water.

“Justin!” he yells. “Justin!” He widens his eyes, tries to see, but the water is murky, milky, and deadly cold, so cold he feels like his arm is gonna freeze right off. He hears more yelling behind him but he doesn’t focus on that, he sucks in a breath and sinks a little further into the hole, dunking his head in and trying to open his eyes under the water. His head, his shoulders, his arms, nearly his whole upper body is under now and he’s terrified he’s gonna fall, lose his footing, but he cuts his hands through the water, trying to find Justin, trying to grab onto him. He can’t just let him die, he can’t, even though the cold is like poison pinpricks all over him, but someone grabs onto his legs and pulls him back. He coughs when he’s met with the air again, the snow, and tries to fight against the people and their hands, but there are too many of them, and they’re dragging him away. He’s so cold.

“No, no,” he groans, his teeth chattering. “I’ve gotta—”

“The police are coming, man,” the same voice from before says, arms hooked over Tony’s as he pulls him back towards solid ground. Tony’s skates cut and crack the ice as they go. “Don’t make it two bodies they gotta drag out instead of one.”

“He’s fucking drowning, man—” Tony says, struggling against his hold.

They get off the ice and into the snowy, dead grass, amongst the on-lookers, those who decided someone falling through the ice was exciting enough to pull them away from the brain freeze tent. 

“Just let the professionals handle it—”

Tony finally wrings himself out of this guy’s grasp, falling down onto his side. He reaches for the laces of his skates, trying to quickly untie them with frozen fingers. His teeth are still chattering and he feels very small right now, which doesn’t really back up his next statement. “Do you know who I am?”

The guy, who’s big and broad-shouldered, wearing a skeleton cape, looks like a mountain man. He regards Tony for a long moment, tilting his head. “Iron Man.”

“That’s right,” Tony says, still struggling with his laces, looking back and forth towards the spot where Justin disappeared. A group of men wearing the same jacket rush past everybody else, out onto the ice.

“Don’t see no suit right now,” the guy says. 

“Yeah,” Tony says, bitterness on his tongue. “Worst mistake I ever made.”

He feels insane sitting here, not doing anything, when he was the goddamn one that was with Justin—is with him in this fucking mess of a situation. He watches the cops make the hole bigger, one of them dunking in, and then another one wearing a diving uniform runs past the growing group of people watching, including Tony himself.

He watches. It feels like ages. He doesn’t know why he’s given up, why he’s sitting here with one ice skate on like an idiot, and then he sees them dragging a body out of the water. Tony scrambles to take off his other skate and then he rushes over there, slip sliding on socked feet, the mountain man screaming after him. 

“Go back!” the cops yell as he approaches, and they’re carrying Justin off to where the group is. Tony doesn’t know what he’s thinking, he feels like every day in this place has been chipping away at every bit of sense in his head. He follows them, nearly falling about a hundred times, and he wonders why the hell they’re not trying CPR right here on the fucking ground by the frozen lake. He sees that they’re taking him to the station, behind the turkey bowl area, and he gets close enough to see Justin’s face.

His eyes are open, and his skin is blue.

~

They do CPR for ten minutes. Feels like ten years. There’s a doctor there, from the little clinic they visited in their past iterations of this godforsaken day, and she calls it.

“You’re—you’re done trying?” Tony asks, staring down at him. 

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Tony shakes his head. He doesn’t know what his mind is doing. He looks around at their faces, defeat in their eyes and their slumped shoulders. He blinks rapidly. “You’re done? You’re really done? He’s your new frozen dead guy?”

“Sir, we tried—”

Tony lets out a harsh breath and brings his fingers up to his temples. “He could still be alive. He’s fucking frozen solid.”

“The combination of the temperature and the lack of air—”

The door behind them opens fast and he turns to see Rhodey, Peter and Happy coming inside.

“Uh, excuse me—” 

“No, they’re—they’re with me,” Tony says. He sways a little on the spot, stressed and relieved at the same time by their sudden appearance.

“Tony, what’s…” Rhodey trails off when he looks at the table, and then one of the cops quickly draws the blanket over Justin’s face, which makes him feel really officially dead. “Was that—Hammer? Justin Hammer?”

Tony feels like he’s gonna throw up. He looks up at the doctor again. “We’re sure?” he asks.

“We’re sure.”

“I need to come back…later,” he says. “To deal with this.”

“Does he have any other family?” 

Tony sighs, shaking his head. “I have no idea, I barely—barely know—” He shakes his head again. He doesn’t know what the hell to say, or think, or anything. “I gotta go, I’ll—I’ll stop back by.” He briefly locks eyes with Rhodey before he pushes out the door and back into the cold.

“What’s going on—why the hell is Hammer here—”

“How did he—Jesus, what happened—”

“Tony, are you okay?”

He feels insane. He wants to start crying, he wants to start screaming, he wants to throw a fucking tantrum and destroy shit. He doesn’t want to face this, he doesn’t know how to face it, he hates Hammer and this whole situation but he doesn’t want him _dead_ , last night he was actually acting like a real live human being and now he’s dead, now he’s fucking dead.

Tony covers his face with his hands, sucking in a breath. “He’ll be back tomorrow,” he mutters to himself. Right? Right? That’s how it works. But watch it not work that way this time. Watch Justin Hammer’s death tear him apart for the rest of his fucking life. Of course, that’s exactly what Justin goddamn Hammer would want. Tony has the inclination to rush back in there and punch his lifeless body in the face, and then collapse on top of it crying.

“Tony, you look like you’re freezing,” Rhodey says, his hands on Tony’s arm. “You’re not wearing shoes—let’s go back to the motel, then you can explain—”

“I don’t wanna explain it,” Tony says, before he means to. But he doesn’t, the idea of telling that whole goddamn story is always horrifying to him but now it’s ten times worse, the last thing he ever wants to do. He feels like calling Pepper, crying into her ear, but the logical part of his brain that’s still working whispers from the darkness. _Not while you’re like this._

“Okay,” Rhodey says.

“Tony, let’s just—let’s just go back, get you in front of the fire,” Happy says.

Tony lets his freezing hands slide away and sees the look on the kid’s face. Fear, concern, panic, and Tony tries to focus. 

“Okay. Okay.”

~

The silence mounts around them like castle walls, keeping him in and keeping them out. He can only hear breathing, the fire crackling, the blankets they draped over him shifting whenever he moves. Peter is sitting on the ground next to him, while Rhodey and Happy sit on Tony’s bed. He can feel their gazes on him, heavy and calculating, trying to figure out how the hell they got here and how they’re gonna get the story out of him. He has a script but he doesn’t know how to say it, and he doesn’t want to, _he doesn’t want to do this anymore._

“Tony,” Rhodey says. 

“I, uh—something is happening,” Tony says, clearing his throat. “Something is happening here, in this shitstorm of a town, and it involves—involved…” He shakes his head again, his heart plummeting. He will not lose it over Justin Hammer. He will not lose it over Justin Hammer. “It involved Hammer. But, uh—I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Tony,” Rhodey says again. “We’re not—we deserve to know what’s going on.”

“You totally do,” Tony says, looking around at them. “You absolutely do. But I need you to just—let me have this. I’ll tell you tomorrow. I will tell you tomorrow.”

~

The day goes by. Tony avoids the police station and the morgue at all costs. Happy sees them move Justin’s body there. They have breakfast. They have lunch. They have dinner. They have all of it in silence, walking in silence, eating in silence, walking back in silence. He hates what he’s doing, hates what he’s feeling, hates what he’s going through. 

He hears Peter mention to Happy, softly when Tony is a couple paces ahead of them, that he’s looking forward to going home. And that night, when they’re all in their separate beds, he cries in silence too, for everything they’ve lost, for everything they’ll never have again. And for Justin fucking Hammer.

_DAY ELEVEN_

_So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me_  
_SOS_  
_The love you gave me, nothing else can save me_  
_SOS_

Tony jolts awake. 

Peter groans in the other bed. “I don’t even remember you setting an alarm.”

Tony throws the comforter and sheets aside, nearly faceplanting when he gets out of bed. His heart is rampaging, stuttering and stopping. 

“Tony?” Peter asks. “What—”

“One sec,” Tony says, glancing over his shoulder to catch the wild look in Peter’s eyes. He waves in the kid’s direction, tries to stave off his panic but he knows he’s failing at that, like almost everything else he’s done here. His mind is manic and his movements are too, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing but he leaves the room to the line of _though I try how can I carry on?_

He rampages down the hall in his pajamas towards Justin’s door, and he only knocks once before a small moment passes, and then the door whips open.

Justin stands there, grinning.

Tony is frozen, even though he’s inside, in relative warmth, and away from the snow and all the stupid dead guy festivities. 

“Did you cry?” Justin asks. “Anthony Stark, did you mourn for little old me?” He laughs, hanging onto the door knob, reeling back onto his heels. “Oh my goodness, I wish I could have seen it. You know, I feel like we’ve come a long way—yeah, you’re a hero, so you don’t like death, but now that we’re, you know, close—”

Tony sees—static. Hears static. Feels it on his fingertips, his toes, and he feels like he’s probably losing the capability to think his actions through before he makes them. Justin laughs, throwing his head back and rolling on his heels again. Tony’s anger flares, heating up in his ears, and he pushes Justin as hard as he can. 

“Oh shit,” Justin gasps, stumbling backwards. His room is, once again, a goddamn mess, and when he falls back he trips over a small duffel bag, hits his head on the brass bedframe. Tony hears a crack, and watches him collapse in a heap. 

No way.

“Hey,” Tony says, standing there just outside the door. “Hey, idiot. Get up.”

Nothing. No movement. No goddamn _way._

“Hammer,” Tony says. “You are not dead again. Not again. If you’re fucking with me, I’m really gonna kill you.” _If I haven’t already._

He doesn’t move. Tony cracks his jaw and steps over some of his crap, bracing himself for Justin to pop back up and scare him or something. But he keeps still, even when Tony finds his pulse—or lack of one—in his neck. No heartbeat. A cold sweat breaks out on Tony’s forehead and he searches on Justin’s wrist, too. Nothing. He broke his goddamn neck.

He lets him go and Justin’s hand flops down, hits the carpet.

Tony laughs. He sits back, rubbing his eyes. He laughs again. If he felt insane before, he doesn’t know what this is, but then again he doesn’t know what goddamn anything is anymore.

“Tony?” Happy’s voice, from down the hall.

“Tony?” Rhodey now.

“He went this way, I think, I’m not sure…” Peter.

Tony just sits there. He is in hell. They’re in hell. He looks at Justin’s stupid dead body and nudges him, and laughs again. He’s really fucking dead. Again. Tony killed him. Anything can happen. He wouldn’t be surprised if aliens landed and implanted eggs in him. If the frozen dead guy—wherever he is—came back to life as a fucking zombie and terrorized everybody mocking his demise. If the whole goddamn town blew up.

He looks at Justin again, then at his own hands. They haven’t cracked it yet. Not yet. But why is he dead again? Why would something so stupid and cartoonish happen? All he did was push him. 

“Maybe we both have to die,” Tony says, swallowing hard. Does this thing want them dead? Will it keep them dead? Because that doesn’t fly with him. He can’t do that to Pepper, or the baby, or the kid or Happy or Rhodey or the team. He’s not hardheaded enough to say he doesn’t have people who need him, he does, and he knows that now. But if he has to die, so he can live—he’s not against trying it. He doesn’t have a whole lot of trust for this place or this fucking loop, but he’s on his last legs and ready to try just about anything.

He hears a gasp behind him. A chorus of gasps.

“Tony, what the fuck?”

Tony braces his hands on the carpet and pulls himself up. “Yeah, I killed him,” he says, gesturing back towards Justin. “He swung at me, so.”

“Is that—Justin Hammer?” Rhodey asks.

“Yup,” Tony says. “Was here to kill me.” He knows he’s gotta go do something, but he doesn’t like the idea of them finding his body, having to deal with that, even if they’re gonna forget it. He knows that shit stays behind, colors their future days, and he hates it—he hates even thinking about it. There’s fear in his heart but it’s muted, and concern for them is at the forefront.

“Jesus, Tony—uh…” Rhodey steps around him, into the room.

“Stay back, kid,” Happy says.

“I’ve seen dead bodies before.”

“I mean, if it was self-defense, we should be good,” Rhodey says. “I think there should be cameras in the hallway, they probably caught it. Jesus…”

Tony hisses a little bit, knowing what the cameras will show, but it doesn’t really matter, anyways. 

“Fuck, do we like…go get the cops? I’ve never really had to deal with something like this,” Rhodey says, looking at Happy.

“Don’t look at me—Peter, stop trying to go into the room.”

“I’ll go,” Tony says, thinking it’s a good distraction for them if they stay here. He clears his throat, trying not to get weepy— _it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine_ —and he pats Peter on the shoulder without meeting his eyes. “Be, uh—be right back.”

“Tones, you okay?” Rhodey asks. “I know that—I mean, even if it’s him—”

“I’m fine,” Tony says, sniffling a little bit. 

He is so far from fine.

~

He thinks of Groundhog Day. Remembers Happy saying _don’t kill yourself_ , tries not to let those words echo in his head in an endless loop. He thinks—hopes—the stupidass theater building is big enough to do he job, but he climbs up the base of the spire on the roof just in case. 

He’s never done it like this. He’s been close to sacrifice so many times, but never like this, and he doesn’t wanna fucking do it. But he keeps trying to tell himself it isn’t real, it isn’t gonna stick, it’s just a means to an end. 

He doesn’t let himself think too much longer, or he won’t do it. He jumps.

It’s fast.

_DAY TWELVE_

“Why are we trying it again if it didn’t work the first time?” Justin yells, panting as they run. “Why would we knowingly do this? This is a terrible fucking method, by the way.”

“Maybe it has to be done in threes or something!” Tony yells, nearly tripping over a tree root covered in snow. 

Maybe they’ll fall and die out here before the bear gets them.

“This is gonna be a lot of suffering!” Justin yells, close behind him.

“At least nobody will find our bodies!” Tony yells back, weaving around a tree. 

“We might not even die right away!”

“Oh, I think we will,” Tony says, the bear growling and roaring on its approach. 

“Then why—the hell—are we running?”

Tony winces, looking over his shoulder. The bear is gaining on them, and Justin grimaces. Both of them start screaming, and running faster.

_Yeah, this one was a mistake._

_DAY THIRTEEN_

“Body heat,” Justin mutters. There’s frost in his hair and in his eyelashes. “C’mon.”

“No,” Tony says, shivering. “Trying. To die.”

His brain is shutting down. They’ve been in the freezer for—five hours, probably. More. But no one knows—they’re here and that’s—all he cares about. 

“For me?” Justin pleads, trying to smile.

“God. No.”

He closes his eyes. Hopes this is fucking doing something. They thought about freezing to death in—the forest but—they didn’t want to deal with the bear shit—again.

He leans a little too far to the right and a bag of peas falls next to him. He’s too frozen to look. Justin closes his eyes.

_DAY FOURTEEN_

Justin is already dead. Tony doesn’t even wanna think about it. He’s been on the carousel since the flames started rising. Up and down, up and down, up and down.

Then he hears it. The thing that hasn’t happened yet, the thing he’s been dreading, and it’s the worst possible fucking scenario. His heart drops when he sees Peter rush in.

“Tony!” Peter yells, from the doorway, where the fire hasn’t reached yet. “Tony, please!”

The carousel goes around again so Tony can’t see him. He holds onto his flamingo and coughs a little bit. The smoke is getting to him. “Peter, get the hell out of here!” he yells. “I don’t want you seeing this!” Why the hell did Peter have to follow him? He doesn’t want any of them to see him like this, but especially not the kid.

“No, no!” Peter yells, panic in his voice. The flames get a little too close to him and Tony’s heart lurches. “No, Tony, this isn’t—listen, I know something’s happening to you, I know you need help—”

“Kid, you gotta—you gotta go!” He knows how it looks. Not exactly a sane move, burning down a carousel while you’re riding on it. He wonders if this will work. Fire is the exact opposite of ice. He’s stuck in ice. They’re stuck in ice. The last two were freezing situations. Maybe this will do it. Maybe tomorrow will be his last today.

He coughs again, he can barely see. He covers his mouth with his hand. He feels a little lightheaded, and it’s getting a lot hotter in here. He’s afraid of how it’ll feel—he’s burned himself before, but nothing on this scale. The walls around him are starting to crumble, and the ceiling looks like it’s ready to cave.

“Tony, I’m not letting you die!” Peter yells. “I’m not, I’m not!”

Tony goes around the circle again and narrows his eyes when he sees the determination on Peter’s face. His heart dips—he can see what happens next, even though he hasn’t lived this version of events before. And it can’t happen. It can’t fucking happen. “No!” he yells. “Get out of here, it’ll be okay!”

“No!” Peter yells.

Tony’s too high up on this fucking flamingo to jump down fast and put the kid’s mind at ease. But he tries, unhooks himself, but when he goes around again he sees Peter gritting his teeth, getting ready to run into the fire.

No. Goddamn no. Justin, when that shit first happened—fuck, that felt like dying, and Tony doesn’t even like him. But Peter—not Peter. Tony can’t see this. Titan was once, Titan was enough. Never, ever again.

“No, Peter!” Tony yells, still struggling to get down, get out without dying, with some horrific third degree burns, but when he tumbles down onto the aluminum floor of the carousel, the thing turns again to give him the perfect view of Peter, running into the fire. The whole plan is out the window—Peter’s all that matters right now, he’s all that matters, and Tony rolls off the carousel, onto solid ground. He’s lightheaded, dizzy, and the ceiling just to the right of him falls in, the wall buckling, the windows bursting and spraying glass everywhere.

Tony gets to his feet, his eyes watering, and searches the room. He buries his face in the crook of his arm.

“Tony!” Peter yells, but Tony can’t see him.

“Pete, where are you?”

Too much fire. Too much smoke. But Tony takes a couple steps forward and then he sees him, close to the wall, and Tony rushes forward but then it happens—Peter yells, his hands up over his head, and the ceiling collapses right on top of him.

“No!” Tony yells, his throat ragged. “Peter!”

He didn’t think the fire would catch this way, he made it so it’d look like an accident and the owners were far enough away that they wouldn’t be mixed up in it, but now he feels like he’s gonna have a heart attack because the whole place is collapsing and the kid is involved. He coughs, holds his breath, puts his forearm up over his head as more debris falls. He rushes over, sees Peter standing up on his own volition and pushing the ceiling and wall pieces off of him just for more to fall, and he drops down on one knee as they boom down onto his back.

Tony isn’t thinking, there’s too much in his way but he kicks it past him and finally makes it to Peter’s side. But Peter is strong, and pushes his way out on his own. Tony quickly grabs hold of his arm, hauling him up the rest of the way, patting out the parts of his sleeve that are on fire. Their regular way out is blocked and his eyes are straining, he can barely see, he only moves on muscle memory and fear for the heaving kid beside him. They push their way around the carousel, stumbling around more falling debris, ceiling that drops on top of the merry-go-round and slides off into their path. Tony pulls his shirt up over his mouth with his free hand, and finally finds the outline of the back door amongst all the smoke.

~

Their stop by the clinic is brief, because Peter wants to get the hell out of there. Tony knows the kid is acting flaky because he’s mad about what happened, scared, freaked out, all of the above, and Tony doesn’t blame him, his own guilt threatening to drown him on his feet. They get lots of oxygen, the same doctor from Justin’s original demise says they both inhaled a lot of smoke but they seem okay. Only a few first degree burns, which are taken care of. Supposedly, the cops are gonna speak to them more later, but they seem to be blaming the whole thing on some faulty wiring. Just like he wanted them to.

Tony doesn’t think about Justin, where his body is, he just wants to get the kid back to the room to relax. 

“What the hell were you doing?” Rhodey asks, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest like an angry father. “Why the fuck did you run away like that—and being there—and the fire—”

“I can’t explain any of it,” Tony says, not looking at Peter, who’s taking deep breaths at his side. They still have puffs of black all over their skin, and he knows they’re gonna need showers here soon.

“Are you losing your mind?” Happy asks. “Is something—is the snow getting to you? I know you don’t like snow. But we’ve barely been here a day, I thought it’d take longer.”

Tony winces. He’s tired. He’s fucking exhausted, of all of this. He rubs his eyes, trying to think, trying to think of his next move.

“Peter,” Happy says. “What’s up?”

Tony opens his eyes and looks to the side where Peter is—his face is contorted, and he’s taking small, shallow breaths, his hand clutching his chest. 

“Peter,” Tony says, a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “You okay?”

Peter’s eyes find Tony’s and there’s fear there, the kind of fear that makes Tony’s blood run cold. Then Peter sucks in a clipped breath and slumps against him, his arm falling limp in his lap.

“Hey, hey—”

“Whoa, whoa—”

It all goes quiet. All Tony can hear is his own voice, his heartbeat, skyrocketing. 

“Peter. Peter.”

He lays him down. He shakes him. Peter isn’t breathing steadily, not at all until one big gulp of breath, and then nothing again. Tony’s hands fumble to find his pulse and it’s there but weak, thready, stuttering in and out like his own heart did in the early days of the arc reactor. 

Rhodey’s voice seeps back into the high pitched silence. “—Tony! Tony? What’s happening? Is he going into—”

“I’m not sure—they said—they said he was fine—” He shakes his head and starts chest compressions, counting mechanically and looking at the kid’s face. He’s not even fucking CPR certified anymore but he remembers the steps, tries to focus, this is the kid, the kid, he’s gotta—he’s gotta do something—

They switch off when Tony gets winded, and Rhodey does better, since he wasn’t in a fucking fire. Tony watches, horror growing in his heart. _C’mon, Peter. C’mon, Peter, wake up, Peter._ They’re all chanting it, like a mantra amongst counting. 

When too much time passes Tony’s heart drops.

Rhodey steps back from his third round. He looks at Tony. Happy looks too, and both of them have those expressions on their faces like they don’t wanna spook him, like they know what’s about to happen. There’s also that deep sadness there, because they love Peter too—no—no—

“We have to bring him back to the clinic,” Tony says, stepping forward, but Rhodey puts a hand on his chest.

“Tony.”

“That doctor, she’s—she can help him—”

“Tony,” Rhodey says, his voice breaking, his façade falling. “Tony, he’s—”

“No, he’s not, he’s not anything,” Tony says, trying to push Rhodey aside to get to Peter, but then Happy is there. 

“I think he…” Happy sniffles, looks back briefly, then puts his hands on Tony’s shoulders. “The smoke inhalation—I’ve heard about this kind of thing before—”

“No, c’mon,” Tony says, pushing him out of the way, but when he gets another look at Peter’s face he knows. The lack of life there, his head tilted back, his mouth open. He still has the puffs of black all over him, on his face, but he’s deeply pale, everything about him slack. Tony sits on the edge of the bed and takes his wrist, presses his fingers there. No thready pulse, nothing. Tony reaches up and tries to find it in his neck—nothing. 

Tony is frozen. The heat still clings to them both. He must have gone into cardiac arrest. The smoke inhalation was worse than those goddamn stupid mountain doctors thought it was. 

“No, it can’t—it can’t be.”

“God,” Rhodey breathes. “We’re gonna have to call—”

“We’re not calling his aunt,” Tony says. “No.”

“Tony,” Happy says, approaching him. “I know how—I know how much you love the kid, I can’t believe it either, but we’ve gotta—we’ve gotta face—” He sighs, shaking his head. “He’s gone, he’s—”

“Don’t say it,” Tony says. 

He feels like he’s gonna throw up. Not Peter, not him, and the tears form in Tony’s eyes, slip down his face as he stares at the kid that’s usually so full of life, laying there unmoving. Tony sucks in a breath and shakes his head, gritting his teeth, and is reminded of where they are. His circumstance.

This isn’t the last loop. He won’t let it be.

“Get out,” he says. 

“What?” Rhodey asks. 

“Get out, I need you two to get out,” Tony says, clearing his throat and not taking his eyes off Peter.

“Tony.”

“Please,” Tony says, closing his eyes. “Just—just leave us alone here, I need you to go.”

“Tony, he’s—”

“I know!” Tony yells, his own voice harsh and too loud and he looks to see if Peter reacted but he’s still the same. Still dead.

Peter Parker is dead. Again. And they don’t have any path to save him this time. Except the path Tony is already on, and he doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to breathe, doesn’t want to do anything to fix the loop. Because he needs it, now. He needs another do-over.

“I know,” Tony says. He’s tempted to tell them but he decides against it. He can’t manage it. He feels like he’s gonna break apart into a thousand pieces, and he swallows hard. “We have six hours left in this day. I’ll deal—let me—just—” His voice shakes and he looks down, away.

“Okay,” Rhodey says. “Okay.”

~

Tony has no answers for this. He doesn’t know what killed him, why he died, but he knows it has to do with the fire, so he knows it’s his fault. Smoke inhalation—his lungs and his heart, they couldn’t take it. The kid is strong, the kid is Spiderman, but Tony did this to him. 

He rearranges the kid’s limp body, lays him on the side of the bed that he usually sleeps on. Then he locks both doors, in case Rhodey and Happy get any ideas. He knows how this looks. It looks like he’s lost his fucking mind, gone off the deep end when confronted with another version of the world without Peter Parker in it, and he thinks he could still keel over too. 

He keeps thinking that. He walks over, kneels by the bed like he’s praying, and takes Peter’s hand in both of his own. 

“It should have been me,” he whispers. “It should have fucking been me, goddamnit. I’m the one with the weak heart here, not you. You’re the young one, I’m the old man, you’re supposed to—not this,” he says, quietly. “Not this, anything but this, I know I’ve told you that before.” He cradles Peter’s hand, his lax fingers, and stares at him. He didn’t have a body before, just ashes, just pain and that stubborn optimism that something would come and fix this, change it, get him out of this. He sat there in the same spot on Titan for what felt like decades, wishing and hoping, hoping and praying, that either Peter would somehow pop back into existence, or he himself would die too. He didn’t even know if Pepper was alive then, and he felt spent. Broken.

He feels the same now, but he’s got the body, where Peter’s vibrant soul once was, and Tony stares and stares, that nagging optimism echoing in the back of his mind. _He could wake up. He’s right there. Anything could happen._ But it doesn’t. He doesn’t.

Tony doesn’t move, just holds onto Peter’s hand and closes his eyes, the hot tears never letting up, and soon he can barely breathe through his goddamn nose. 

“I don’t know if you’re gonna remember any of this,” Tony says, his throat hurting, his head pounding as he opens his eyes and looks at Peter again. “I don’t know how the hell any of this bullshit works, what you retain, even if you’re dead, I don’t know—and I do know that you might have some lingering anger or that patented Peter Parker pissiness, but I’m gonna say it anyway—sometimes I wish I had never gone looking for you, kid. You’re—you’re too good, and I’m just—a fucking harbinger of death or some shit. A bad luck charm. Spiderman doesn’t need me, you don’t—you’re good on your own, you know what you’re doing. Look at everything I’ve gotten you into.”

He holds Peter’s hand against his chest for a moment, reaching out with his other hand and wiping some of the blackness off of his cheek. He did the dad thing once, without even thinking about it—licked his thumb and wiped some kinda yellow smear off Peter’s cheek, spicy mustard—and Peter hated it, icked at him and batted his hand away, but he was still laughing, still smiling, goading him and saying that May had done the same thing at breakfast. Tony just quipped back that he needed to stop eating like a kindergartner, but he knew in that moment, in his heart of hearts, that he was in too deep. That Peter was solid in his family now, locked in, a done deal. He could see the future, all the futures, and they included Peter, big brother to whatever little Stark-Potts kids came after, helping them with homework, chasing them around the compound, holding them when they’re small and frail and new, because Tony trusted the kid with everything.

And now he’s dead in front of him.

He holds Peter’s hand with both of his own again, resting his forehead on his own knuckles. “Don’t let this be the last loop,” he says, soft. “I need this kid. He’s—he’s too important, goddamnit, to May, to his pals, Fred and MJ—Pepper loves him, Happy loves him, shit, Happy doesn’t even love me and he loves the kid—and the world needs him, he’s a hero—he’s _the_ hero, Peter—Peter would do anything to save people. To make things right.” This whole thing is a prime example of that, and Tony’s heart aches. He draws in a wavering breath. “This can’t be the last loop because I can’t live without him. Plain and simple.”

It’s been two weeks. This is the fourteenth day, his deadline. And he couldn’t have failed harder.

~

Rhodey and Happy try to get in once, and Tony thinks he hears another voice, but they don’t try to break down the door so he doesn’t have to defend his choice to sit in here with the kid’s dead body. Darkness falls, gets darker, and Peter doesn’t come back. Tony stays in the same spot, feels weak and small and desperate, but he doesn’t move. He just clutches Peter’s hand, and prays for another loop. _Just one more. I need one more._

11:58

“C’mon, Pete,” he whispers, staring at his face.

11:59

“C’mon back.”

_DAY FIFTEEN_

_So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me_  
_SOS_  
_The love you gave me, nothing else can save me_  
_SOS_

Tony’s eyes snap open. 

Peter groans in the other bed. “I don’t even remember you setting an alarm.”

A smile breaks out on Tony’s face, so wide it almost hurts, and he closes his eyes tight, a tear sliding down his temple. He’s alive. Peter’s alive, he’s goddamn back, they got their second chance. Tony’s relief makes him feel light, airy, younger than he’s ever been, and he sucks in a deep breath before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and nearly collapsing onto the ground between them.

Not nearly. He does collapse, his knees giving out and hitting the carpet.

“Tony!” Peter yelps, and Tony hears him toss the covers aside and step down, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Fucking ABBA is still playing but Tony doesn’t care, Peter hauls him up so he’s standing again and before Peter can even say anything, Tony nearly tackles him in a hug. 

“Hey,” Peter laughs, patting Tony’s back. “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened? Nightmare? Is it ABBA?”

Tony scoffs, trying not to pass out from just how fucking _relieved_ he is that Peter’s here, Peter’s alive, Tony can hug him and talk to him and be in a room where he’s _not fucking dead_ and for once, for once in this repetitive hell, he’s so, so, so glad for another loop.

“Yes, it’s ABBA,” Tony says, laughing, holding him tight. “Yes, it was a nightmare.”

“Was I dead?” Peter asks, tentative but straightforward. 

Tony’s heart stutters a little bit and he pulls back, his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “Do you remember?” he asks.

“Titan? All that?” Peter asks, eyes wide, like he isn’t sure why Tony is asking him that. 

Tony clears his throat. Of course that’s what he’s thinking of. The first time he died. The second time was erased, it’s gone, it’s not coming back. If Peter remembers anything from these loops, Tony hopes it’s not the fire, and everything that happened after. “Yeah,” he says, and pulls Peter in to hug him again. “I’m sorry I’m hugging you first thing in the morning. It’s weird.” His voice is shaking. 

“I love hugs.”

Tony snorts. “Yeah, I know you do.” His emotions are welling up, overwhelming him, and he knows he’s lost his mind, he’s well beyond crazy, and he feels like there are so many things he has to say that he hasn’t said yet. To everyone, all the people that he loves, and he’s got three of them here. He pulls back again, seeing Peter looking at him anxiously. “Pete, I just want to let you know that you’re—the best. You’re a superhero even when you’re not Spiderman, you bring out the best in me, you’re a genius, a wonderful, genuinely good person and I love you. I’m so—so lucky to have you on my team.” He shakes him a little bit. 

“I love you too,” Peter says, his eyes narrowed. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because,” Tony says, just as the adjoining door opens and Happy steps inside, Cher streaming in with him and mixing with _SOS_. “I’m completely losing my mind.”

~

“And that time in ’84,” Tony says. “With the vodka bottles?” 

“Yeah,” Happy says, smiling. “Yeah, I remember.”

“You’re amazing,” Tony says, squeezing his shoulder. “You’re my point man, you know me like the back of your hand, you can always read my mind and I just—I love you, brother.”

“I love you too, Tony—”

“Why the love fest?” Rhodey asks, from the other side of the room, sitting next to Peter on Tony’s bed. 

“You’re next, buddy,” Tony says, pointing over his shoulder at him, but then there’s a knock at the door. Tony already knows it’s probably Justin, goddamnit, and the probably goes out the window when another, more obnoxious knock follows. “Wait, asshole!” Tony yells.

“Tony, you’re better than that,” Rhodey says, scoffing at him.

“He’s going through something,” Peter whispers. 

“Enough to yell at the maid?”

“It’s not the maid,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. He toes on his boots, nearly falling over in the process, and then walks over to Rhodey, cupping his face in his hands. “You are my best friend. My life feels—off kilter, if you’re not by my side. I trust you, I love you deeply, I wouldn’t have gotten through my years at MiT or—a lot of other years—if it wasn’t for you—” Another knock outside, and Tony lets out a long sigh. “Sorry this is short, seriously, I could write a novel about my love for you, James Rhodes—”

“Alright, alright,” Rhodey says, patting Tony’s right hand, but he’s definitely blushing.

Tony walks over to the door, grabbing a jacket on the way. He opens the door, puts the jacket on, and is met with Justin standing there like a spurned lover.

“I cannot believe you killed me again.”

“It was an accident,” Tony says, brushing past him and into the hallway. 

“You were forcibly holding my head in a toilet.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean to _kill you_ ,” Tony says, over his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Rhodey yells from behind them. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, hey,” Justin says.

“Oh _hey_?”

“Tony, where are you going?” Justin asks, clearly ignoring Rhodey’s indignation. 

“To do my own thing,” Tony says, walking down the hall and towards the lobby. 

“Tony!”

“Hey, what the fuck—what’s—Hammer—where are you—”

“What the fuck is _happening_?”

“He’s docile, like a little deer baby or, like…a small otter,” Tony yells, pushing the door open and walking out into the cold.

~

"Tony, talk to me. What's going on with you? You're freaking us out."

Tony keeps making his snow angel. He moves his arms and legs back and forth and stares up at the bright blue sky until Peter moves a little closer, eclipsing the sun. He narrows his eyes and stares down at him like he's insane.

Because he is insane.

"Peter," Tony says, beginning the conversation he's had so many times before. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course," Peter says.

"We're in a time loop. I'm Bill Murray. I remember everything, you guys don't, we're...we are trapped. We're trapped, buddy. I've done this over and over. And over. And over and over and over. I don't know how to fix it. So I'm...giving up. I make snow angels now. And that's it."

He can hear Justin arguing with Rhodey and Happy somewhere down the road, their voices carrying as they get louder and louder.

Peter stares at him. “What?”

“I know.”

“No—what?”

“Yes.”

He keeps making his snow angel.

_DAY SIXTEEN_

“I can’t believe you said your address on TV,” Justin snorts. “Idiot.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” Tony says. “I’m telling—a story.”

Tony leans on Justin’s shoulder and laughs. His vision is blurry, his brain—his brain is fried. He’s drinking moonshine. Moonshine! He hasn’t had moonshine in ever. And it tastes like apple pie. He’s smiling so hard his face hurts. He misses the others and he doesn’t know where they are. He barely remembers leaving the room.

“So then I uh,” Tony slurs, “I caught all of them, even though I only should have been able to carry four. Because duh. No person or flight attendant left behind. I really miss Jarvis.”

“I heard about that shit,” Justin says, and he looks really blurry around the edges. “I saw that shit on—on the TV. In the guard’s office.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.” He yawns, long and loud. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. Wait, no.”

Justin barks out a laugh. “Caught you.”

“No, I hate here,” Tony says, looking around at the darkened bar they’re in. Oh. They’re in the train car bar. He looks at Justin again. “And you.”

“Pfft. You tolerate me.”

“Fine.”

The door opens and the place floods with light, and Tony holds up his hands to block it like he’s a vampire.

“There he is.”

“Tony, what the fuck?” Happy asks. “You’re drinking with this guy now?”

Suddenly Justin is in the air and Tony is falling face first onto the seat where he was sitting a second ago, and when he looks up he sees that _Peter_ is the one holding him off the fucking ground and against the wall.

“I don’t trust you to drink with him,” Peter says, glaring at Justin.

“That’s my kid,” Tony says, pointing at him. “My strong kid.”

“Strong?” Justin wails. “What the fuck? Did you inject this kid with something? This isn’t—this is—outrageous—”

“Spiderman,” Tony says, pointing at him.

Peter, Rhodey and Happy all whip their heads around to look at him, with a mixture of fear, pointed anger and disappointment. 

Tony scoffs at them, waving them away. “It’s fine. Tot—totally fine. Nobody here is real.”

_DAY SEVENTEEN_

Tony lays in the snow, kinda like he did the other day—the other today—when he was making the snow angels. But this time the stopped ski lift is above him, the other four up there, looking down with horror in their eyes.

The amount of pain he’s in is—just—fucking rude. That’s the only thing he can think of. This whole experience is just fucking _rude._

His leg is broken. One hundred percent. 

“Tony!” Peter yells. “Tony, I’m—”

“Do. Not. Jump. Down!” Tony yells. He knows the kid is Spiderman, but he's not prepared to watch Peter die again. Ever. A group of people are gathering around him, some kneeling and talking to him, but he doesn’t answer, just stares up at his friends and Justin on the goddamn ski lift and wonders if this is some kind of allegory he hasn’t broken open yet. He doesn’t know if he ever will.

The same useless doctor rushes over and kneels next to him.

“Just leave me here,” he says, not even looking at her. “I live here now.”

_DAY EIGHTEEN_

They sit on the stage in front of the substantial crowd and Tony can pick out Peter, Rhodey and Happy’s faces in the second row, looking at him with weird trepidation and anxiety like they don’t know who he is anymore.

“And Justin—next question on the Newly Dead Game—how lavish would Tony want his funeral to be?”

“You know, looking at him,” Justin says, holding his microphone up close to his mouth, “you’d think he’d want a big, fancy funeral, but Tony is a family man. Even if it’s not what he actually got, considering his—stature in the community—his one true wish for his final party, would be something intimate with those he loves most.”

“Tony?”

Tony turns over his little whiteboard, where the words _SOMETHING INTIMATE WITH THOSE I LOVE MOST_ are scrawled there.

“Wow,” the announcer says. “You two truly know each other, down to the letter, it seems.”

“We’re close,” Justin says, grinning.

They’d watched this game over and over again. They’d memorized the questions, told each other their answers, and when they win the big, stupid trophy, somehow it manages to fill the Nederland-shaped hole in Tony’s heart. If only for the remainder of that loop.

“I’m losing my fucking mind,” he says to himself, that night, in bed, with the trophy tucked in beside him.

_DAY NINETEEN_

He’s in the town square, surrounded by blue lights. Maybe he’s a little drunk again. He’s sitting on a crate somebody provided, because he’s been talking for a really long time and most of the town is here, paying rapt attention to his story.

“So you guys are prisoners! In your own town! And you don’t know it, but now—now you do, because I needed you to know. Because I’ve been dealing with this shit. And how many times can you allow this to happen?” he says, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“I mean, you’re trapped—don’t you guys have lives, outside of Frozen Dead Guy Day? Outside of Nederland?” 

They all stare at him. 

“I mean—don’t you have other family? Somewhere out there? A cousin in New York, your mother in—Omaha, I don’t know.” 

He doesn’t seem to be getting through to them, but they…look like they’re listening. He gets to his feet. “Have none of you seen Groundhog Day? You need to—rise up!” 

He throws his hands up, looking around at the concerned faces. “You all just need to concentrate—super hard—just…just remember what I’m saying, right now. Drill it into your brains. Listen to Iron Man—listen—”

“Oh, hey!” one young guy says, wearing a Frozen Dead Guy shirt. “That’s where I know you from!”

Tony hangs his head.

He’s gonna die here.

Again. And again. And again.

_DAY TWENTY_

“Pepper?”

“Oh my God, Tony,” she says, as he clutches the phone to his ear. “Tony, what’s happened, where are you? May and I are losing our minds, you haven’t been calling, we can’t track your phones, what’s going on? Are you hurt? Did something happen, does someone have you? What can I—”

Tony squeezes his eyes shut tight, hanging his head and leaning heavily on the table. He sucks in a breath and exhaustion settles in his bones, defeat in the set of his shoulders. “We’re trapped,” he croaks, shaking his head. “I trapped them. I did this, fucking coming here—it’s my fault. It’s my fault. I’m never gonna see you again. I’m never—never gonna meet our little girl.”

“What?” Pepper asks. “Tony—”

“If you wanna get remarried, you can,” Tony says, hiccupping, sucking in a breath. “Just—just register my death, so you can, you know, do what you want. I know you like that Chris guy, from payroll…it’s fine, I mean, he’s a nice guy. Or Steve. I mean, Steve’s Captain America. He’d be—he’d be a good choice—or Natasha, I mean—she’d take care of the baby better than—”

“Tony, listen to me. Listen. Focus.”

He’s quiet, and he wipes some of the tears away before more fall.

“Tell me what’s going on. Everything.”

“I’m Groundhog Day,” he says. “I’m—in Groundhog Day. I’m Bill Murray. The letters, they—there was no award ceremony, it was all Justin Hammer—he was stuck in the loop, living the same day here, in this town, over and over and over again, he was the only one that could remember and he needed help—it’s just this place, the outside world is going on like normal—but somehow, some…fucking way, I got here and I remembered too. Peter, Rhodey and Happy—just like the rest of the town, they forget, every night. It hits midnight, we swap back to the morning, fucking…ABBA playing, Cher…Justin’s died a couple times, I died a couple times, Peter died…once…”

“Tony. Oh my God.”

“I don’t know how to fix it,” Tony breathes, and he’s desperate to get back to her, desperate to hold her and talk to her and have their life back—their life, that they worked for, that they earned. He wants to get Peter back to May. May, who he made promises to, to keep her nephew safe. They’ve used the word co-parenting before and he’s let her down, he’s let Peter down. He wants to get Rhodey and Happy back where they belong, out in the real world and not here, not freezing Colorado, a dead and moldering cage, but he can’t—he can’t. He’s lost. He can solve so many problems but not this one. “No one can get out, and if people get in they—they get trapped too, they get sucked into the loop, they don’t remember—”

“But you remember?”

“I don’t know why,” he says, wiping his eyes again. “Pep, I—I know I’ve done a lot of shit, I’ve solved problems we didn’t think I could solve but this…it’s worn me down, babe, I can’t—I haven’t made any progress, at all. But I just—please, tell May Peter’s alright. Just—I don’t know how to get him back there, to her, where he should be but he’s…he’s okay. And I love you.”

“Tony—”

“I love you so much,” he says, and it feels like a goodbye. He’ll never see her again. “I’m so lucky you decided to stick with me, I’m so—lucky I was able to spend so much time with you, you’re the most incredible person in the world—”

“I love you,” she says, her voice breaking. “I’m gonna help you.”

His heart rattles a little bit. “Pepper—you can’t come here. You can’t, nobody can, you’ll just get sucked into the goddamn loop and I don’t want that for anybody that’s still out there.”

“I love you, Tony,” she says, stronger and clearer this time. “I’m gonna help.”

_DAY TWENTY-TWO_

“Alright,” Tony says, in the driver’s seat, as they approach the town limits. His heart is beating so hard he feels like all of them can hear it. “I’m just gonna drive.”

“Tony, I love you, but it’s not gonna work,” Justin says, from the middle seat. 

“Don’t say you love me, and it is,” Tony says. He looks at Rhodey in the passenger seat. 

“I trust you,” Rhodey says. “Maybe it’s time.”

“Didn’t you say you didn’t want anybody to die again?” Justin asks. “Because if we do this, somebody is gonna die. Or everybody.”

“We could have just left you,” Happy says. 

“Exactly,” Tony says, turning around and looking at them in the backseat. He looks at Peter, thinks about him lying dead there in the hotel room. He doesn’t want to see him freezing to death, or mangled in some horrible car wreck. But they don’t have any other option. This is all they have left. They have to try again.

“We’re okay,” Peter says. “We’re good.”

“Okay,” Tony says, turning back around. He puts on the gas, they go over the metaphorical line, and they’re on the road out of town. He’s holding his damn breath—it can’t be this easy, it can’t be this easy—

No. It’s not this easy.

The snow rumbles on the side of the mountain, and then it falls in a long, heavy sheet, landing on top of the car like a bus, or a truck. It cascades over the windshield and the windows so they can’t see anything. Tony presses hard on the gas, and the car moves a little bit before it stalls and dies.

Tony slams his hands down over and over on the steering wheel, gritting his teeth to try and keep in all the screaming that he wants to do.

“Told you,” Justin says. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“Shut up.”

_DAY TWENTY-SEVEN_

“Just run!” Tony says, making sure Peter is beside him as he rushes through the snow and out of town. They’re carrying their suitcases and they rumble as they run, Tony’s feet sinking into the snow with every step. “Go! Go as fast as you can!”

“We gonna run—all the way to Denver?” Happy pants, glaring over at Tony as they go.

“Yes! Jesus!”

“This isn’t gonna work!” Justin yells.

“Shut up! We’ll call for help once we’re back in a place that has service!”

“Tony, I don’t—ah!” 

Tony skids to a halt when he hears Rhodey cry out, and he turns around and sees him on his side, clutching his ankle. “What happened, what’s going on?”

“I twisted my goddamn ankle,” Rhodey says, disbelief in his eyes.

“No way,” Happy says, breathing hard and staring over at him. “No way.”

Justin bends over, slapping his hands on his knees and dissolving into hysterics.

“Shut up,” Tony says, pointing over at him.

“Gimme a hand, kid, lemme see if I can walk on it,” Rhodey says. 

Peter walks over, pulls him up and braces Rhodey’s arm around his neck. “Okay, lean on me.”

“Alright, I can—ah—oh shit, no, this is—this is just like that time, Tony, sophomore year—”

That definitely isn’t what Tony wants to hear. He stands, staring at Peter trying to keep Rhodey on his feet. He’s been able to rebuild Rhodey’s legs before, get him back on his feet, but he doesn’t have anything good at his disposal here—he’s fucking looked, there’s nothing of use to anyone here and he feels like that was on purpose, by whoever did this. 

“Just leave me,” Rhodey says. Peter scowls at him.

“No,” Tony says, wilting. “No, we’ll—we’ll try again tomorrow.”

_DAY THIRTY-SIX_

It’s dark. Flux hours. Tony has had seven cups of coffee, and Rhodey keeps eyeing him warily. Justin is sitting on an upturned barrel, filing his nails. There’s no one around, and the town is taking on that eerie ambiance that hangs in the air at this time of the day.

The day. The day of days. The goddamn day they can’t get away from. They tried to walk out, slow as can be, but Peter passed out. With no apparent reason or cause. Then they stole a van and tried to speed out, avoiding the avalanche but sliding off the slippery road onto a broken ledge below. They managed to get out before the vehicle dropped down into a fiery blaze, and the cops held them up before they were able to get anywhere on their feet. 

They tried to scale the mountain, multiple times, and go around, but it ended in exhaustion or disaster over and over and over again. They found a small charter plane when they went searching farther beyond the cabins, but Tony doesn’t like to think about how that ended up. And after a while, it almost seemed like the goddamn loop was catching on to their plans and would stop them before they even got onto the road—they dealt with an engine fire, an unplanned parade, a lockdown, a fist fight, a bomb threat, anything and everything that could have possibly happened: happened.

Peter is sitting off by the side of the road, on one of the concrete benches. 

“We gonna try again here?” Happy asks, standing beside Rhodey.

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Gimme a sec.” He walks over to the bench, hearing a brief car horn sound in the distance, and he ruffles Peter’s hair. “You good, buddy?”

“You were right, before,” Peter says. “About me—worrying about college. I was worried about—about leaving you and May, leaving New York, not—not getting to be Spiderman, or having to be Spiderman somewhere else and then people wondering why Spiderman moved and New York thinking I left them behind for some reason but now—but now it doesn’t matter. Because I’m never gonna get out of here.” He shakes his head, staring down at the ground. “Apparently I’m already missing a lot of school, I mean…I don’t know. I was just thinking about it.”

Tony stares down at the top of his head. He’s been waffling back and forth between pointed optimism and completely giving up, but this—this makes him want to get Peter the hell out of here more than ever before. He’s been sorta manic, especially since it hit the One Month mark, but this gives him a small moment of clarity. “Hey,” he says, putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “We are gonna try every day. And eventually, I’m gonna stumble onto something, because that’s how it usually works—and we’ll deal with the school thing, c’mon. That’s nothing, that’s not even a bump in the road. Okay? Okay? I’ve got you, I’m not gonna let—”

He hears a car’s tires squealing around the corner and Tony stops talking, all of them looking up to see the source of the sound. 

“If that’s goddamn Chet again—”

“No, that’s not a red car,” Tony says, narrowing his eyes as it speeds up. 

And stops right in front of them. 

It’s a small blue car, tinted windows, and Tony nearly dies right there and then when the driver’s door opens and Pepper steps out. He feels like the whole world stops, like nothing is real except for her, and even though it’s only been a month she looks significantly more pregnant than she was before. He feels like he’s nailed to the ground, unable to move, unable to do anything but gape at her as she walks around the front of the car, her eyes locked on him. He’s been a mess of conflicting emotions lately, but right now he’s stuck between wanting to break down weeping and jump up in the air celebrating. She’s here, he can see her. But she’s _here._

“Holy shit,” Happy says. 

“Oh my God,” Rhodey says.

Justin slinks behind a lamp post. And Peter doesn’t say anything, though his eyes get as big as saucers, like he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing.

“Pep—” Tony starts, but she shakes her head, walking over and taking his hands. 

“I’m not leaving here without you,” she says. “Any of you. Even you, Hammer. And I’m definitely leaving—because this baby will not be born in Colorado. Or inside a time loop.”

Tony stares at her. He doesn’t know what to say, what to think, but, for the first time in a long time, it feels like the optimistic side of him might be in the lead.


	3. nothing else can save me

Tony has felt off his game for most of the time he’s been trapped here, stepping left when he should be running right, always saying the wrong fucking thing, anything and everything slowly chipping away at the few brain cells left in his head. But seeing her here—his wife, his Pepper, his beautiful, incredible Pepper, is sending him into pure unadulterated panic. He needs her, it’s true—she’s the only one who speaks his language, makes him feel like a real, live, functioning person—and he’s glad. Glad to see her, glad to have her close to him, on his same wavelength.

But she’s here. In this snowy, dead guy, time loop hell. She’s stuck now too.

“You gotta turn right around,” he says, squeezing her hands. “Maybe you can get back out because you haven’t been through a loop yet.”

“What did I just say?” she asks, letting go of him and gesturing back towards the car. “You’re worse off than I thought if you think I’m going anywhere without you.”

“Oh my God,” Tony breathes. He twists his wedding ring back and forth on his finger, a high pitched tone going off in his ears. 

“And you,” Pepper says, pointing over at the lamp post, where Justin is still hovering. “I should tear you apart, Hammer, are you out of your mind?”

“I’m not sure who you’re talking to,” Justin says, trying to shrink down even more.

“Oh, you know full well,” Pepper says, her voice loud. Tony watches her like she’s not real, watches her brace her hand under her stomach as she glares over at Justin, her face softening when she turns to look at Peter. She bends a little bit, touching his face. “I had to do everything I could to keep May from coming with me. But she knows what’s going on, and she loves you, and she probably will follow if we don’t come back within the next couple days.”

“Great!” Tony says, throwing up his hands. “Great! Both Parkers in danger! Exactly what I want!”

“Apparently he’s been steadily losing his mind since this all began,” Happy says, walking closer. “But we can’t help because we—fucking—disappear every day or some shit. Reset like a video game.”

“Which you will also do—” Justin says, pointing over at Pepper.

“—but not tomorrow, right?” Rhodey asks. “She’s gotta have one full day.”

“Right,” Tony breathes. “Which is why she should _leave_ —”

“Tony—”

“Pepper—”

“We should all try,” Justin says, stepping out into the open. “Maybe…because…I don’t know, I haven’t dealt with anything like this before, but maybe because she hasn’t had a full day yet, maybe…maybe…”

“No more maybes,” Tony says, following his line of thought. “Let’s try it, I’m on board.”

“Okay,” Pepper says, looking at him with wild eyes as the rest of them converge in on them. “Should we get your stuff—”

“None of it matters,” Tony says, shaking his head. “We can get more stuff. Nobody has anything sentimental, right? Pete?”

They all shake their heads, Peter too, though Tony can’t tell if he’s hiding something he doesn’t wanna mention. He figures if it existed and it was important enough, the kid would let him know, so he continues on with his plan. He feels like half of his brain is leaking out of his ears and he doesn’t know what the fuck he’d do if they actually ever escaped this place. It kinda feels like how guys get in prisons—institutionalized, like he thinks this is where he belongs and he isn’t sure how to be anywhere else.

But he knows he needs to snap the fuck out of that mindset. This isn’t his life, this isn’t where he belongs, where they belong—where Pepper and his daughter belong. This place isn’t a blip on his radar, he isn’t gonna live here forever. No way, no way, no way.

“You want me to drive?” Pepper asks, as they walk closer to her car.

He doesn’t know how to answer that, considering how many car accidents they’ve had, the wide array of injuries each of them has accrued no matter where they were sitting. It makes him panic for a second, trying to decide, and then she solves it for him.

“I’m driving,” she says, walking around towards the driver’s seat.

“Okay,” he says, at a loss for what’s right or what he actually wants to do. He looks at the others, realizes her car is too small, and clears his throat. “Okay, we’re gonna have to pile in like we used to do in college, Rhodey, when the car was too small and there were too many of us—”

Rhodey cranes his neck back, rolling his eyes. “Tony—”

“Peter, I’m sorry, you’re the smallest, so they’re all gonna get in and you’re gonna have to lay across their laps,” Tony says, tapping on the back window as Pepper starts the car. “We’ll deal with any police situations when we come to them—”

“Okay,” Peter says, slowly, his brows furrowed. 

“Tony,” Pepper says.

“Justin, you’re going on the end with his feet, because I don’t trust you.”

Justin contorts his face in horror, and so do the other three. “Tony, that is an awful—”

“Please,” Tony says, waving his hands. “I would rather you weren’t even in the car, but you know I’ve grown to—”

“Tony—”

“Pep?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. 

“Grown to what? Grown to what?”

Pepper looks at him over the roof of the car. “All the gas is gone,” she says. She blinks rapidly, shaking her head, and he walks around to look himself. She sits back down, holding onto her stomach with one hand and gesturing to the gas gauge, which is below empty. “I don’t understand, I had well above a half a tank—”

“That’s how this is,” Tony says, too loud, slamming his hand down twice on the top of the car as hope begins to dwindle down. “That’s—this is the same shit this goddamn loop has been doing to us—”

“Jesus…” Pepper trails off, tapping on the gauge with her nail, to no avail. “That’s—that’s just—”

“Our car,” Justin says. 

“My car,” Rhodey says.

“You shouldn’t even get to go,” Happy says, as they march over there with no concern for Pepper and Tony. “This whole thing is your fault to begin with, we wouldn’t even be here—”

Tony looks up and sees Peter standing there by the side of the car, waiting for them. He smiles a little bit, taking Pepper’s hand and helping her out of the car, and then Tony closes the door wordlessly and they start following. 

“It’s good to see you,” Peter says to her, smiling sheepishly, and Pepper grabs him, hugging him as they walk and pressing a long kiss to the top of his head. 

“You too, sweetheart,” she says. “Despite the circumstances.”

Tony watches, chewing on his lower lip as they approach the spot where the car is parked and where the other three are still arguing.

“May is—May is okay?” Peter asks. “Like for real?”

“She’s fine,” Pepper says, as the snow starts to fall harder. “Just worried about you. But I told her I wasn’t coming back without you, and I intend to come back.”

“We’re gonna figure it out,” Tony says, his voice breaking, because Jesus, they have to, they have to figure it out, he’s known that this whole fucking time but now he knows it more than ever before. He wonders if Pepper knew seeing her, seeing her _here_ would kick him into high gear. 

Rhodey gets into the driver’s seat, yelling a harsh _shut up_ to Justin as he does, but Tony can already feel their failure in the air before it even comes to light. He doesn’t know if that’s something the loop does too, give him warning of heartbreak, because he’s felt it here on more than one occasion before they’ve been shot down.

He hears the engine work heavily to start, watches Rhodey’s body language as he puts everything he has into turning the key. The snow is gathering in their hair and on their shoulders.

“No, no,” Rhodey chants.

“Again?” Happy exclaims. “Again? This is just like you said happened—when did it happen—”

“Not surprised,” Justin says, shrugging. 

Tony has the inclination to turn around and punch him in the face, but he doesn’t want that kind of energy around his pregnant wife, the goddamn energy here is insane enough without him adding violence to it.

“What about walking out?” Pepper asks.

Tony holds his hand out and a pile of snow gathers in his palm within a couple of seconds, and he shakes his head. “We could. Maybe _we_ could. Not you.”

“Tony—”

“I don’t even like the idea of them walking out because I know what happens when we fucking walk out,” Tony says. He remembers, every horrible moment, the freeze in his bones, and when he looks up he sees lightning webbing across the sky in the distance. “And now look—” he says, pointing off at it. He shakes his head. “Nope. We’re done, we’re tapped out. Inside. Time to go.”

Rhodey is still trying to start the car. “No, I gotta keep trying, I’ll get it.”

“Rhodes—”

“Tony, goddamnit, we can’t give up on it—”

Tony walks over and reaches inside the car, shaking Rhodey by the shoulder. “This is how it goes,” he says, as the lightning rumbles and the snow gets heavier and heavier. Tony’s heart rages in his chest and he looks up and around, worry sinking inside him. “Inside, let’s go. Come on.”

Rhodey hangs his head. Tony knows what it looks like when they’re hit with all the information they don’t know—well, the things he told them, the things they didn’t get to remember. That they experienced, that they forgot. They don’t want to believe it, they want to think this time—the first time, for them—will be it. The end. It breaks Tony’s heart every fucking time.

“Alright,” Rhodey says, pulling the key out of the ignition in defeat. 

~

“Where is he going?” Pepper asks, as Justin attempts to slip away down the hallway. 

“Uh, I know I’m not your favorite,” Justin says, turning around and pointing at Pepper. “I’ve managed to—half win Tony over, and he defends me against the others, but you, you’re—you—” He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead he takes off down the hallway as quick as he can, disappearing out of sight.

“Tomorrow I want you on high alert, Hammer!” Tony yells. “We’re working harder than we’ve ever fucking worked!”

He doesn’t get a response, and a heavy sense of defeat and annoyance hangs over their group as they start down towards their rooms. They’re carrying Pepper’s luggage, one small duffel and one gigantic suitcase that weighs more than Peter does.

“Don’t tell me he’s actually won you over,” Pepper says.

“It’s complicated.”

“Tony.”

“You know what isn’t complicated? The fact that you shouldn’t be here.”

Rhodey clears his throat loudly, but Tony is honed in on Pepper, how she still manages to look menacing even when she’s waddling down the hallway. 

“I wasn’t gonna leave you here, Tony, not after that phone call.”

“Why couldn’t you have sent someone else?” Tony asks, throwing up his free hand. “Anyone else. Steve. Natasha. Gregory the security guy.”

“Greg wouldn’t have worked out,” Happy says. “He’s—he wouldn’t have had the right frame of mind for all this.”

“You are my responsibility,” Pepper says. “That’s me and you, it’s been us since we met and we set that shit in stone when we got married, Tony—”

“Uh, we’re at the door, guys,” Peter says.

“Why would anyone else get this done better than me?” Pepper says, nearly yelling. 

“You’re pregnant!” Tony says, angry he has to state the obvious. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m incapable!”

“Just take the suitcase from him, kid,” Rhodey says. “I’ve seen them get like this before—”

“Yeah, same,” Peter says, and even though Tony isn’t looking at him he can feel him peeling the suitcase out of his hands.

“I know you’re not incapable,” Tony says, gesturing now that he can, and he can see the other three slowly moving from his line of sight, the door closing behind them. “You are…the opposite of that. People say that other half shit, about their partners, but you—with you, it’s true, you are all the good I have in me—”

“Tony—”

“I know you can do anything, but Jesus, Pep, I don’t want you and our baby in danger, that’s the exact opposite of what I want. I already have Peter, Happy and Rhodey in on this, three people I love so—goddamn much, lost in this…bottomless pit—” His voice breaks and he covers his mouth, averting his eyes. “I’ve had to watch—watch these people suffer, get hurt and die, get their minds wiped every—every morning and I can’t—I can’t—”

She steps forward, wrapping her arms around him, and he has to hold himself back from collapsing. “I’m sorry, babe,” she whispers, kissing his cheek. “I’m sorry, I just—I had to get to you. I had to. I fought the pilots on it and every fucking road block that tried to stop me but I just—I had to get to you. I couldn’t send somebody else, I couldn’t, knowing how you sounded—I had to come.”

He sighs, turning his face into her neck. He knows he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place with this thing, he hates it but he gets it, he doesn’t want her here but he’s thankful, grateful to be back in her arms.

He doesn’t know how to do anything anymore.

~

When they finally make it inside the room, Peter, Happy and Rhodey are all sitting on Peter’s bed, whispering to each other, and they look up at Tony and Pepper like they’ve been caught doing something wrong. 

“What’s going on?” Tony asks, holding the door open for Pepper before he shuts it behind them both. “Why the weird looks, did something happen? Justin’s not in here, right? Hiding under the fucking bed…”

“No,” Peter says. He looks down, holding his feet up. “Well. Not that we know of.”

All three of them jostle around on the bed a little bit, but nothing happens. Tony kicks his suitcase under his bed, just to make sure. But nothing. 

“We’re just worried about how it’s gonna be in the morning, for us,” Rhodey says. “When we wake up, in our normal day….but it’s different, because Pepper’s here.”

Tony shifts his weight and remembers the story about the uncle and nephew Justin told them. He doesn’t know if he’s told it to them again, reiterated what he said about the nephew glitching when he woke up and the uncle was still there. He feels a few more pieces of his soul chipping away at the thought of them ‘glitching’ or whatever the hell might happen, and he looks down at his feet.

“We just wanna remember,” Happy says, with a sigh, like this whole thing has taken a toll even though, for him, it’s only been a day. “You know, after all the shit Tony told us….God, we just want it to be over. For him and for us.”

Tony clears his throat, is gearing up to say something, he doesn’t know what, but then Pepper walks over and stops in front of them. 

“Come here,” she says, motioning to them with her hands. 

They all stand up, a little blearily, and as soon as they’re on their feet she hugs all three of them at once, tugging them in close. Tony watches the confusion on their faces melt into familiarity, and then they close their eyes and hug her back, a bit of the tension slipping from the room. 

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” Pepper says, running her hand through Peter’s hair. “It’ll be okay, it’ll—oh.” She laughs, retracting one of her hands and touching her stomach. 

“What’s wrong?” Tony croaks, all his worst fears manifesting themselves and swarming around him. He feels dizzy, swaying a little on the spot. “Is it, is—”

“No, she’s just kicking,” Pepper says, smiling and looking over her shoulder at him. She turns again as Tony slowly approaches, and takes Peter’s hand, putting it on her belly. “You guys too,” she says, motioning to Happy and Rhodey. “Have you felt her kick yet?”

“Just the once,” Happy says. “But that was—”

“No, that doesn’t count,” Pepper laughs. 

God, her laughter. Tony feels that long tone present itself in his ears, blocking out anything else as he watches their reactions to his daughter kicking. He’s overcome with something, watching the softness in their reactions, the happiness in their eyes, the way Pepper positions their hands when the baby moves. 

Tony lets out a wavering breath, his vision going a little blurry. Maybe there is hope after all.

~

A little while after that, Peter asked them if he should bunk with Happy and Rhodey, but both of them told him no, and Tony left out the part that it wouldn’t matter anyway, that he’d wind up right back in his own bed in the morning. He thinks, somewhere in Peter’s mind, that he knows that, anyway.

Dread fills up Tony’s every pore as more and more time passes, even though he has his wife in bed with him, close. He just asked her to talk—whisper, because Peter is sleeping—and tell him everything. It’s five minutes to midnight and he doesn’t wanna tell her, doesn’t want to say they’re five minutes from a new day, the same day, with unknown elements looming on the horizon.

If the others hadn’t spoken to Pepper, Tony would be sure he’s hallucinating her. 

“May and Natasha helped me with the nursery,” she says. “Tasha kept asking where you were, I kept having to make stuff up. Actually, I, uh—it’s in my bag.”

“Hmm?”

“I was sort of tricking her—which is a feat, I know—talking about the baby growing up, worrying about her, you know—overzealous, far in the future stuff, but she did bring me this little locator thing she said Clint uses with his kids. She said you’ve probably made something similar—but I hooked it up to her phone without her knowing.”

Tony smiles at her, shaking his head. 

“So I figured—we could try to send the signal—see how that works. If it does anything. But then I guess she’ll just come running.” She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“I’ve thought about getting them all up in here,” Tony whispers, eyes darting over to the clock, watching their time run out. “But I just—I’ve realized, over the time we’ve been trapped here—I guess it’s not a fight. There’s no battle, it’s just—it’s something else. I just don’t know what the hell it is.”

Pepper nods, her eyes shining. “So I guess I shouldn’t have brought the suitcase suit?”

Tony nearly chokes. “You—”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you used—is that why your luggage is so goddamn heavy?”

She nods, smiling. 

“Wow, you’re—you’re—eternally, the best thing—on this earth—” He leans in, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her hard, relishing the feeling of her laughing against his mouth. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Even if it’s not a fight, I’ll figure out how to put that thing to use.”

She grins at him, and then he sees her eyes travel to his wrist. She reaches up, and covers it, peeling something up from his skin and then snapping it back again. He narrows his eyes, following her line of sight, feeling his heart pick up its pace again.

“What’s…what is this?”

Tony looks, and even in the darkness he can see it, now that he’s really looking. It feels like everything washes away except his primordial instincts and his memory of that first day, that very first day, the pure shock and horror when Justin was there in the lobby, and his stupid gifts, his dumb fucking gifts—the bracelet he wrapped around Tony’s wrist, the other half to his own, the bracelet Tony quickly forgot about. Never even noticed again. Until now.

His outfits reset every day. He shouldn’t still be wearing this. He shouldn’t be. He’s died—he’s fucking died—and he’s still wearing this fucking bracelet. From day one. Day numero uno. Shit, he lost his right arm, cut clean off in the car accident—if this had been on his right arm would it have still been there the next morning? He can lose an arm—but not this bracelet?

Of course he’s got some evil magic band on his left wrist. His problem arm. The gauntlet arm. 

His mind works fast. His mouth is dry. He feels sick.

They’re both wearing this. Him and Justin. That’s the only thing that sets them apart—and what else sets them apart? That they fucking remember. That’s gotta be what this means, why he remembers, why they _both_ remember. A goddamn fucking magic bracelet, that’s been there all along. 

He’s breathing hard through his mouth, staring at the bracelet, staring at Pepper staring at the bracelet.

“What the fuc—”

_DAY THIRTY SEVEN_

_So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me_  
_SOS_  
_The love you gave me, nothing else can save me_  
_SOS_

Tony’s eyes snap open, and before he can have another thought, Pepper shoots up in bed beside him.

“What the hell was that?” she says. “It was like—I blinked and then things were—things were different—”

He’s breathing hard, losing it—Pepper’s here, she’s here, it’s a new day—but Peter’s about to wake up. And the fucking bracelet. He looks at his wrist—the impossible is suddenly possible. Why the fuck is he still wearing this thing—how did he never notice it—and what the fuck does it mean? Does it mean what he thinks it means? The remembering shit—is this why? Is he right? It feels like a nightmare. What the hell does it mean in regards to Justin?

Tony exchanges a quick, panicked look at Pepper. It’s shocking, that she remembers, but she knew about the damn loop already, of course she’d remember, and this will be her every morning—thinking it’s the first day, her first day in a series of forever, and he wonders what’ll happen to her, what’ll happen to their baby—he shakes his head at her, trying to convey his feelings, his fear, and then he rushes to turn off the alarm. 

“Peter, is he—”

“He’s about to wake up,” Tony says, turning the clock over and clicking the music off. 

But it isn’t an ‘about’ anymore. He looks over and sees Peter sitting up in his bed, his eyes wide and trained on Pepper. 

“Tony, what’s—Pepper, how did—when did…” He brings one hand up to his temple and winces a little bit. “I—I almost—did something happen?”

Tony is freaking out and he considers making some shit up, about her arriving in the night, but he knows honesty is the best route to go here and he feels like, from the look on the kid’s face, that he’s doing the glitching thing. The very idea fills Tony with fear. He has no idea what it means, but it can’t be good.

Tony quickly gets out of bed and rushes over, sitting by Peter’s side and taking him gently by the shoulders. “Buddy, look at me,” Tony says, and he reaches up to turn Peter’s face so he’ll meet his eyes. Peter is shaking, his dismay and confusion clear, and Tony rubs his shoulder, ruffling his hair. “Listen, you gotta believe—just listen to me, you trust me, right?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, his voice wavering. “I—she wasn’t here but—but she was—I—I’m not sure, maybe it was a dream.”

Tony hears Cher singing in the other room and he knows what’s about to happen, knows he’s about to have three glitching people in front of him instead of one, and he wishes Pepper could help, she knows how to talk to them, Happy especially, but it’s her presence causing the fucking glitch to begin with. He looks over his shoulder at her and sees her watching, debating, and he turns to Peter again. 

“What’s going on?” Peter asks, slowly, and then the door opens.

Happy stops in his tracks, immediately seeing Pepper, and Tony feels overwhelmed, close to just giving up, but he can’t give up on them.

“Hap, you’re not going crazy,” Tony says. “There’s a trap door on the back of your alarm clock, open it up, send Cher packing, and then bring Rhodey in here. I’ve got some shit to say.”

~

He explains everything. This is the first time he’s felt focused telling this story, the facts of the hell they’ve been living in. But he finally feels like they have a lead—a real lead, though he has no goddamn idea where their lead is going to lead them. But he sits Peter, Happy and Rhodey down and tells them all of it—every detail—and lets Pepper pipe in about his desperate phone call, her journey here and all the obstacles the loop threw up in her way. Because it clearly knew she was coming, and knew her intent was strong. Nothing was going to stop her. 

“And then we noticed this thing,” Tony says, running a ragged finger around the inside of the bracelet. He has no idea how he hasn’t noticed it before, in all this time, but he attributes that to more loop bullshit. He wonders how far this thing goes, what it can do, what it can influence. Seems like it’s a force as strong as Thanos, and that thought makes him sick. He sighs. 

“What is it?” Happy asks. “That’s not—”

“The bracelet you said Justin gave you,” Peter says. “On the first day.”

The confusion is gone from their faces now, all traces of a glitch replaced with determination and clarity. He’s glad for the trust they placed in him, despite the responsibility that comes along with it. He thinks he can bear that weight, for them.

“Our outfits reset every day, so I shouldn’t still be wearing it,” Tony says. “And what sets Justin and I apart from everybody else? The fact that we can remember.”

“And you’re both wearing a piece of that bracelet,” Peter says. “Are you saying—you think the bracelet is like—a magic talisman or whatever? That makes you remember the loops?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “I don’t know if I’m right, but…I don’t know. I can’t see any other reason, and it feels like a good explanation for the big question I’ve been asking since I woke up remembering and you didn’t.”

“He must have done this,” Pepper says, from the easy chair by the fireplace. “He got you involved—got you remembering—on purpose.”

“Goddamnit,” Rhodey says, hanging his head. “That asshole. I can’t—I can’t believe any of this.”

Tony winces a little bit. He hates his head and his inclinations, but he immediately gives Justin the benefit of the doubt. A month ago he would have believed it, immediately, he would have rushed out of this room to go punch him in the goddamn throat, but now—God help him—he doesn’t believe Justin knew what he was doing when he gave him the bracelet. 

“Tony,” Pepper says. “You don’t believe he did this? Got you involved on purpose? I know that face. He did trick you into coming here, we know that, you can’t put it past him that he gave you that bracelet because he knew it’d make you remember, if you’re right about what it does.”

“Tony,” Rhodey says. “You are not siding with this guy.”

“Siding?” Tony asks, cocking his head. “No. There’s no siding. No siding here. I just—”

“You just?” Happy asks, raising his eyebrows. “After all the shit you just told us? You died, the kid died—again—”

Tony sighs, looking up at Peter. Peter shakes his head, shifting his mouth a little bit. He looks around at the others like he’s gearing up for what he’s about to say, and he straightens up. “He’s gotta have a reason if he doesn’t believe it,” Peter says.

“You’re too naïve, Parker,” Happy says. “We love you, kid, but I wanna remind you that Hammer almost killed you before you even made it to high school. Yeah, I remember that story, even though I’ve apparently been wiped more times than my old computer.”

Tony shakes his head. No matter what’s going on, they have to go talk to Justin about this bracelet. Tony reaches out, ruffling Peter’s hair in silent thanks for his vote of confidence, and then he gets to his feet. “You guys good? You feel okay? No more brain melting? It looked close there, I think we were like, inches away.”

“Are we gonna go talk to him?” Peter asks.

“Yeah,” Tony says. “We’re gonna go talk to him.”

~

“What the fuck is _this_ , Hammer?” Tony asks, shoving his wrist out in Justin’s direction. “Goddamn friendship bracelet, huh? Is this the reason why I remember? Nice little perk you decided to share with me, huh? Is this why?”

Tony focuses hard in that next moment so he can try to gauge if this idiot is lying. They’re all standing there at his door like a firing squad, and even though he knows he’s gotten a better understanding of Justin since they’ve been stuck here, he also knows the guy is a masterful liar. 

He watches Justin’s eyes focus on the bracelet after a moment, and then a look of pure bewilderment presents itself on his face, something close to fear. He seems caught off guard and it’s not from being caught—Tony knows his face, knows every emotion that’s flashed across it in this frozen hellscape, and this isn’t the nagging optimism that lives inside Tony’s mind. Tony is sure. Justin didn’t know he was still wearing the bracelet, let alone anything about Tony’s suspicions that it makes them remember. 

Justin takes Tony’s wrist and stares at it with shock in his eyes. 

“Don’t play games, Hammer, we know everything—” Rhodey starts. 

“What the hell is happening?” Justin asks, ignoring him and looking at Tony. “How did—I gave this to you on the _first day_ —”

“You’re not screwing with me, are you?” Tony asks, narrowing his eyes at him.

“You think this made you remember?” Justin asks. “Like—like a magic thing?”

“How did you know to give it to me?”

“Tony,” Pepper says, a warning.

“I didn’t, I was just—being stupid, I thought it’d look cute on you, and I just—I mean, I liked the idea that we were both wearing it, I don’t know—”

Tony stares at him, watching him panic, watching the range of emotions he goes through, and goddamnit, Tony believes him. He doesn’t know if he should believe him, but he remembers the moments before he’s died, the conversation in the hallway, their time in the bar, and God, Tony hates it, hates that he found something kindred and understandable in Justin Hammer after being trapped in Nederland with him, but he believes him. He knows him now.

“Tony—how did you—shit, you’ve gotta believe me, I’ve got no idea—how do you figure that’s what makes you remember—just cause we’re both wearing it—Tony, Jesus, I don’t—”

“Chill out,” Tony says, stepping back a little bit. He doesn’t make any grand statements about Justin telling the truth because he doesn’t want the onslaught of yelling that would come at something like that, and he tries to remember what the hell Justin said when he gave him those stupid gifts that first day.

_a silk bracelet my beautiful ex-girlfriend gave to me, which I ripped in half to share with you. Like friendship bracelets!_

Tony hears that nagging tone in his ear again and he feels dizzy, like he’s a puzzle piece and the universe is shifting him around as he gets closer to the truth. Pepper reaches out and takes his hand, and the warmth grounds him. Peter squeezes Tony’s shoulder.

“What’s wrong? Tony?”

“Hammer, where did you get the bracelet?” Pepper asks, seemingly reading Tony’s mind and his feelings. “Where did it come from?”

Justin blinks rapidly, looking back and forth between their faces. “Uh, my ex gave it to me. After I escaped.”

“Oh my God,” Tony breathes, and he hears the guys murmuring. 

“Why is she your ex?” Pepper asks, slowly, like she’s putting it together too.

“Oh,” Justin laughs, leaning on his doorframe. “Well, I cheated on her. A lot.”

“Jesus,” both Tony and Pepper say at the same time. Tony turns to look at her and she widens her eyes, shaking her head. 

“Are we all putting this together?” Rhodey asks. “Because I’m putting it together.”

“She did this,” Pepper says. “She did this, Tony—Hammer, your goddamn ex—she trapped you here, for being a shithead. She did this.”

“Regina?” Justin laughs. “No.”

“Regina _yes_ ,” Tony says. “Clearly. Are you dumb? Don’t answer that. You said you’ve tried to contact her but she—what was the weak excuse—lost her phone? Disconnected?”

“Disconnected.”

“Yeah, that’s—this is why she’s not answering,” Tony says, crossing his arms over his chest as he starts to pace. “That’s why she’s been fucking ignoring you, because she planted you here in this Bill Murray knockoff movie.” He feels a little weak, a little dizzy, because his heart is beating way too fast under the weight of these revelations. “This is it,” he mutters to himself. 

“No way—no—no way.”

“Can she do magic?” Happy asks. “Did you have a magical girlfriend you cheated on and you never fucking came to this conclusion?”

“Magic, what? No way, I mean, no, not that I—not that I know of—”

“That you know of,” Tony mutters, turning back around and facing him. He looks at Pepper, the others, hates that they’ve probably been stuck here because of Justin—well, all along they were stuck because of him, but apparently, if they’re on the right track, they were literally stuck _because_ of him, because the goddamn loop was made in the wake of his mistakes.

“Do you have a picture of her?” Pepper asks. 

Justin straightens up at that, taking a more defensive stance. “Are you going to witch-profile my ex based on a photo of her?”

“We are going to _check_ ,” Tony says, backing Pepper’s play. He reaches out, pushing Justin’s shoulder, but making sure not to push too hard, considering he fucking killed him like that one time. “C’mon, c’mon, I know your phone doesn’t die til two this afternoon, don’t play with me.”

Justin huffs at him but he turns, walks into his mess of a room and retrieves his phone from his bedside table. “Spiderbaby, I know Tony is gonna involve you in the looking at this, just please don’t swipe to the right, your virgin eyes—eh, don’t swipe to the left either—”

Tony snatches the phone out of his hand, and Peter looks at him, scandalized.

“Spider baby?” he asks, horror in his voice. “Tony, did you—”

“Yeah, sorry buddy, I was drunk, but it’s fine,” Tony says. He starts to look at the picture when Happy hits him in the shoulder.

“It’s fine?” Happy asks. “You protect the kid’s identity with your life but then you get stuck in a time loop and you tell Justin Hammer, known villain?”

“Known villain?” Justin laughs.

“Low grade villain,” Tony says. They all gather around him, Peter and Happy still low-key fuming, and they stare down at the phone. She looks like a professor he knew at MiT—she has short, curly red hair all around her face, she’s pale with bright blue eyes, staring into the camera and smiling a little wickedly. 

“Can’t really tell if she’s a witch from this,” Rhodey says. “I mean, she’s pretty.”

“Thanks, yeah,” Justin says, holding his chin high. 

“You had nothing to do with that,” Pepper says, glaring at him.

Tony hands the phone back. He’s getting a little worried now, and he’s convinced they’re right about this, so he won’t let them get off track. “Tell us the whole story,” he says. “Why she gave you the bracelet, why the hell you cheated on her, how she helped you escape, the whole deal.”

Justin scoffs but they’re all on the same page, a unit, and Tony crosses his arms over his chest and waits for details. Justin shakes his head, rolling his eyes, and starts tossing his phone from hand to hand. It makes Tony start messing with his own wedding ring, sliding it up and down his finger.

“Uh—I cheated on her because I’m—me—she caught me with three separate women, one man, and finally we broke up but it seemed—it seemed fine!”

“It’s never fine,” Pepper says.

Justin glares. “Either way, we stayed close, through our whole run-in, Tony—I mean, I almost married this girl, so—we knew a lot about each other, she always got me out of shit I got myself into—”

“Oh God,” Happy says, looking at Tony.

“And she was a guard at Seagate before I started my lovely tenure there, knew all about that Luke Cage shit—she took a bunch of people out, made some similar explosions, got me the hell out of there on a little boat, helped a few other guys out too so they wouldn’t be looking for just me—”

“Jesus,” Tony says. “Great. Wonderful.”

“When did she give you the bracelet?” Pepper says, clearly growing impatient with this whole thing.

“Right after we were in the clear,” Justin says, touching the bracelet awkwardly. “Uh, when we were about to split up….me on my way here. She said it was for…luck.”

“Well, there’s no doubt,” Rhodey says, looking at them. “I’m convinced. I bet she’s done tons of magical shit and your dumbass hasn’t even noticed.”

Justin tilts his head to the side. “I mean, she’s lucky. She’s looked twenty-one for the past fifteen years. And the escape, shit—that felt like magic, lemme tell you, I thought I was gonna botch it a hundred times but I kept getting out of things I definitely shouldn’t have gotten out of—”

Tony reaches up, covering his eyes to keep himself from strangling Justin to death. He doesn’t know what his emotions are doing. He’s all over the place. Part of him is full of doubt, part of him is completely certain, part of him is afraid and worried nothing will come of this, and part of him wants to scream and celebrate and jump up and down, hugging and kissing everyone around him. They’re two steps forward, any way he looks at it, and he wants to get on this now.

“Let’s go get dressed,” Tony says, interrupting Justin.

“What’s going on?” Justin asks. 

“Just get dressed,” Tony says, waving him off. “We’re looking at this from an entirely different angle now.”

~

They all get ready and Tony hears that tone in his ears again, wonders if his body is shutting down from too many freakouts, too much thinking.

“So you’re gonna bring the suitcase suit out?” Happy’s voice asks, from the other room.

“Yeah, do some reconnaissance,” Tony says, pulling his shirt on. “See if I can make an escape that way.” He’s gonna try to see if he can go high enough to get out of the magic fucking bubble and come out on the other side. He wants to try and get them out, too, but he’s gotta practice with someone. He has no idea which one, and the idea makes him sick, worrying about what could happen in the attempt.

“I think his girlfriend is hiding somewhere in the town,” Peter says, pulling his second jacket on and looking around at them. “So she can keep an eye on him, you know? See how her magic is doing.”

Tony nods at him. “That’s smart, kid, probably. That’s…that’s a good lead, we need to start searching around looking for her.”

“I believe this whole thing,” Rhodey calls, from the other room. “But how in fresh hell did Hammer not realize, one, that his girlfriend was a goddamn witch, and two, that she was around town somewhere? He’s been here for so long, looking around at everything—he had to have seen her.”

“He’s an idiot,” Happy declares, just as Tony’s about to.

“Peter is right,” Pepper says, sitting on the bed and putting her feet up while she waits for them to be ready. “I talked to Strange and he said that if this was spell-based, the caster would need to be nearby.”

Tony stops. He turns. He sucks in a big breath, and tries to keep his brain from exploding. He points at her. “You talked to Strange?” he asks, trying not to yell.

Pepper doesn’t look phased. “Yeah.”

Tony stares. The rest of them are quiet. Happy pokes his head in through the adjoining door.

“And?” Tony asks, raising his voice just a tad. He looks around, holding out his hands. “Where is he? Where is he? He could solve this whole goddamn thing with one stupid Latin phrase.”

“He had a thing.”

Tony feels like the universe is caving in on itself or something, which would be par for the course here in Nederland, under these circumstances. He tries not to yell. He really really tries not to yell. “A thing?” he yells. “A thing? This is a thing. We’re having a thing right here! And why didn’t you mention this before? Who else did you talk to?”

“This place—there has been a lot going on since I talked to him, Tony, I’m trying to keep it all straight, and with the pregnancy brain—”

“Okay,” Tony says, rubbing his eyes. “Okay, that’s—it’s fine, now I’m just—more convinced the girlfriend is hanging around here somewhere watching her good work. I’m gonna kick Strange’s ass when I get home.”

“ _When_ you get home,” Peter says, grinning.

“When _we_ get home,” Tony says.

“Alright,” Happy says, clapping his hands as he and Rhodey come into the room. “Let’s go find her! She’s definitely somewhere around town.”

~

“She is definitely not anywhere around town,” Justin scoffs, as they walk into the lobby. “I would have seen her.”

“She’s probably invisible,” Peter says.

“Invisible?” Justin asks, looking at Tony with wide eyes. “No way. No _way_.”

“Or she’s hidden as someone else,” Pepper says. “So hidden in plain sight.”

Tony opens the door for everybody and sighs as the cold air hits him. He hears the dead guy bullshit theme song, he hears the kids calling for Jeff, he sees the dead flowers glimmering in the sun. 

“So we’re running with this now?” Justin asks. “Blaming it all on Regina?”

“It makes sense, dipshit, and we don’t have anything else to go on, so this is where we’re going,” Tony says, walking outside and readjusting his hold on the suit. “You pissed this woman off royally, enough for her to trap you in a hell hole for an indefinite amount of time, it feels right, it feels organic, I believe this story.”

“Me too,” Pepper says, glaring at him. 

“And you’ve got a suit now,” Justin says, looking down at the suitcase in Tony’s hand. “Older model, but—what—you planning on blowing up some shit? Intimidating the turkey bowlers? Getting revenge on the dude in the parka?”

Tony narrows his eyes. He quickly arranges a plan in his head, trying to keep emotion out of it. “Rhodey,” Tony says, pointing at him without looking away from Justin, “is gonna go with you—”

“Huh?” Rhodey asks, whipping his head around to look at Tony.

“—to go search for this girlfriend of yours. We’re gonna start off thinking she looks like her and she’s hiding, and then if that isn’t the case, tomorrow we’ll start over with the idea that she’s pretending to be someone else. Rhodey, I trust you the most here to keep him in line.”

Rhodey shifts away from Justin, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine.”

“Pep, you and Happy are gonna stick around town and see if you see anything suspicious, because if she’s as powerful as we think she is—”

“She is pretty powerful,” Justin says, lifting his eyebrows.

They all make sounds of disgust, and Tony rolls his eyes.

“—as I was saying, if she is—if she’s a witch and she’s keeping an eye on us, she may be aware that we’re figuring her out and want to come to ground zero and see what we’re doing. So I want you two on it.”

“Okay…” Pepper says, though she doesn’t exactly seem on board. 

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Happy says, stepping closer to Pepper. “And an eye out, too.”

Tony sighs, swallowing hard. “Petey, you’re gonna be coming with me in my—escape attempt. I hate it, I didn’t wanna pick anybody to do this because I don’t know what the fuck is gonna happen, but I figure—Spiderman will do the best if we wind up—falling from a great height. And hopefully I won’t be so fucked up by whatever magic shit comes our way that I’ll still be able to catch you.” He feels a little dizzy just saying it, worrying that he’s putting ideas into her head. It sort of freaks him out to think of someone behind the loop now, someone real and solid, with a face, and he knows nothing is a real confirmation, not yet, but he knows they’re right about this. He knows they’re barreling down the right road, the road that has an ending where she stands waiting, but he still doesn’t know exactly how to get there.

Peter stands up a little straighter and nods at him. “Okay. Okay, yeah. And I trust you, it’ll—it’ll be fine, it’ll work.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” Tony says, a sad smile on his face. “But we’ve gotta try.”

“You’re not gonna take the bracelet off, right?” Justin asks, tentatively, his eyes flicking down to Tony’s wrist. 

“Oh, do you believe that’s the thing that’s making me remember?” Tony chides. “You believe that now?”

“Maybe.”

Tony had thought about it. Taking off the bracelet, letting a day go by where he’s wiped out, but it wouldn’t mean anything. He wouldn’t be able to feel what they have felt like this whole time, because he wouldn’t be able to remember anything else. And they’d be set back an entire month. He’d give himself a break, sure, but he’d lose all those driving emotions that are so desperately pushing him towards the jailbreak they’ve been trying to achieve.

“No,” he says. “I’m not gonna take it off.”

~

“ _Boss_ ,” FRIDAY says. “ _It’s good to hear your voice._ ”

“You too,” Tony says, and he knows that Peter can hear the emotion in his voice. He tries not to be so goddamn reliant on the suits because he knows what that gets him, but being back inside one after feeling so stupidly helpless for so long makes him almost collapse to his iron knees. 

“You installed FRIDAY in the old suits too?” Peter asks. 

“She’s in the network, so she’s uploaded into any tech I have, old or new,” Tony says. 

“Can you call out with that thing?” Peter asks. 

“Tried as soon as I got in,” Tony says, cursing Strange again. “Called our favorite wizard, but whatever the hell he’s doing, it isn’t being concerned about us.”

“I guess calling anybody else wouldn’t make any sense, huh?” 

Tony sighs, watching his face change. The suit automatically starts monitoring Peter’s vitals, and Tony sees his heartrate slowly rise. He’s tired of this kid being in this situation, and he wants to fix it on a massive scale when they get home. Spiderman and Iron Man team-up’s, tons of new stuff for his dorm at MiT—shit, they’ve gotta deal with that. His fears about college, his fears about leaving, and all the damn time they’ve missed. 

Tony stops himself in his tracks and takes a moment to appreciate that he’s thinking about the future. Like they might actually make it there.

“I wish Pepper would have brought me my suit too,” Peter says, wringing his hands.

“Yeah, then she never would have been able to stop May from coming with her.”

Peter nods, shifting his weight. The wind blows through and makes the snow fall sideways for a second, and Peter adjusts his jacket around his shoulders. They’re off behind the big trees by the lake where Justin died the first time, because Tony didn’t wanna cause a whole town uproar with Iron Man walking around. He already knows they’re gonna see him in the air, they’re definitely gonna see whatever failure they have coming to them. 

“I feel like you don’t think this plan is gonna work,” Peter says, somehow reading his mind even though his expressions are hidden behind the faceplate. 

“We haven’t had a whole lot of luck so far,” Tony says, still reveling in the fact that he’s actually wearing one of his suits. Maybe that’s a bit of luck that he isn’t appreciating enough. He sighs, stepping closer to Peter. “FRIDAY will alert me if the suit starts to fail, so as soon as she tells me I’ll start back, hopefully get us back on the ground without crashing.”

“I mean, as long as I don’t die I should be fine,” Peter says, nodding shakily. “I heal fast, super healing.”

Tony narrows his eyes, even though Peter can’t see. “Uh, you can break your bones and they’ll set wrong, you know that.”

“Yeah, I mean,” Peter says, chewing on his lower lip. “Then it’ll just. Be fine the next day. Tomorrow. Tomorrow’s today.”

“What if there is no tomorrow?” Tony asks. He shakes his head, and he hates that this conversation isn’t happening face to face, so he pulls up the faceplate. Peter straightens up. “I mean—what if tomorrow isn’t today? What if this is the last damn loop and we fuck up your legs? Or, God forbid something—something else—” He clenches his hands in the suit, listens to the mechanical clicks. This is why he couldn’t pick who he was gonna try to get out first—it couldn’t be Pepper because she’s pregnant, because if he dropped her again—again—he wouldn’t be able to live with it. And Peter, Happy and Rhodey—he loves them so much he doesn’t know what to do when he thinks too hard about it—that much love means that much more loss. But Peter—he’s responsible for Peter. He can’t let anything happen to Peter. He can’t deal with anything happening to Peter. He wants the loop to end, more than anything, but not if they make a fatal mistake.

“ _Boss, I suggest you take a deep breath, your heart rate is getting too high._ ”

“Tony, you’re the best,” Peter says, nodding at him. “You are, you—you’re the best. You’ve done so much for me, and I just—I don’t think—I know you’re not exactly feeling positive about this whole thing, I get it, especially after what you’ve told us, but I—I don’t know, I feel like we’re gonna get out. Intact, you know, not—not with broken necks or broken legs. Even if this particular thing doesn’t work, I think…I think we’re gonna make it out.”

“What makes you think that?” Tony asks, his voice shaking, and he hates that he’s the adult here and he sounds like a little kid. 

“I can’t really put my finger on it,” Peter says. “I just…have a feeling.”

Tony trusts Peter, almost always, almost as much as Peter trusts him. The kid has a good heart and good instincts, and maybe it’s the hopefulness in his head that’s making Tony think of the future. Of a way out.

“Okay,” Tony says, nodding, closing the faceplate again. The screen lights up, and Tony sees Peter nodding back. “Hold onto me, and I’ll let you know if we’re going down. But you’re a smart kid—you’ll probably know.”

“Okay,” Peter says.

Tony takes hold of him best as he can and lifts up, the repulsors sounding weird and foreign here, where he hasn’t heard them before. 

“Fri,” he says. “Let me know if anything weird happens. Like, anything weird.”

“ _On it, boss. So far, we’re in a safe ascent._ ”

He watches as Nederland gets smaller beneath them, Peter’s boots swinging in the air. He sees people taking notice, he zooms in and sees some familiar faces pointing, jumping up and down. FRIDAY makes sure to seek out Pepper and Happy, who are standing and watching from the middle of the square.

“Fri, you got the spot just out of town?” Tony asks, still climbing higher.

“ _Yes, Boss. You are approaching the decided upon airspace. Twenty more feet._ ”

“Pete, you good?”

“Yeah!” Peter yells, grinning but staring down as the town gets smaller and smaller.

“ _Boss._ ”

Tony cuts his eyes to the side. “What?”

“ _I’m not—I’m not sure—something—something—_ ” The screen flickers a little bit and Tony’s heart drops. He immediately changes his direction and starts flying back the way they came, back down to the ground, holding tight to Peter.

“Fri, what’s happening?”

“What’s going on?” Peter yells.

“ _I’m—I don’t—I don’t know—_ ” The screen flickers again and the repulsors go out for a second, and they’re free falling.

“Shit! Shit!” Tony yells. He switches over to back-up power and gets control back, speeding up their descent. “Something’s going on with the suit, I fucking knew it—”

“ _The suit is running—all cylinders, all processes are—I’m not sure—out of my—_ ”

The screen flickers again, the repulsors falter and the snow falls harder. Tony grits his teeth. Usually, when the suit is failing, he gets all kinds of messages and alerts on the screen. This time, nothing. 

“Hold on tight, Pete,” Tony says, shooting downward like a falling star.

Peter does, turning his face into Tony’s shoulder. Tony can’t hear FRIDAY’s voice anymore, and the screen keeps going in and out, reminiscent of an old, dying computer. The repulsors sputter, and he’s about twenty feet from the ground when everything goes dark. He can’t see, it’s blackness, all he knows is that he’s in a fucking metal suit and Peter isn’t, so he curls around him best as he can, holding his head and bracing for impact.

They crash through a tree and, thankfully, into a bed of snow. It’s not the hard kind, and there’s a lot of it, and they sink deep before they stop altogether. He hasn’t been in a dead suit in a while, and he can’t hear anything outside of it. He doesn’t feel Peter moving.

His heartbeat starts rising rapidly and he feels around, finds Peter’s shoulders. He can’t do fucking anything like this, and he’s panicking, breathing hard—

Then the screen comes to life, and he can see again.

“Open up,” he says, fast. “Let me out.”

The suit quickly retracts around him and Tony scoots forward, knocking into Peter. “Kid? Kid?”

“I’m fine,” Peter groans. “I’m good.”

They’re in a hole the shape of the goddamn suit and snow trickles in on top of them. Peter winces, and there’s a line of blood coming from a cut on his forehead. 

“You got a cut,” Tony says, brushing the kid’s hair back.

“You too,” Peter says, looking up at him. 

“Let’s get out of this,” Tony says. They climb out, the snow buckling and falling away, and then Peter helps him haul the suit out too. They both collapse in the snow, and Tony doesn’t have a jacket on, and he’s fucking freezing, and not even his disappointment can warm him up.

“Are we gonna try again?” Peter asks, looking over at him.

Tony scoffs. “No. The suit just failed for no goddamn reason and we weren’t even close to getting out. She’s onto us. We’re just lucky we landed where we landed. You still optimistic, huh? Does this scream positivity to you?”

Peter wipes away the blood before it drips into his eye and looks at Tony. “I don’t know. Maybe they found something.”

~

“We haven’t found anything,” Pepper says. “No one’s doing anything out of the ordinary, well—out of the ordinary for Nederland.”

“No one seemed to care that we were sniffing around,” Happy says. 

“Where’s Justin?” Tony asks, looking around as the people in the brain freeze tent start cheering. “Where’s Rhodey?”

“Right over here,” Rhodey says, walking over with a dejected-looking Justin at his side. “This one is being a little bitch. Iron Man plan didn’t work out?”

“No, didn’t you see us falling out of the sky?” Tony asks.

“Jesus, no, I was too focused on this one being a little bitch,” Rhodey says, pushing Justin away from him.

“Listen, I need more eyes,” Justin says. “I’m feeling very emotional, there’s a lot of ground to cover, I feel like we can manage this if we all work together.”

Tony scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Alright, but I wanna get a butterfly bandage on this cut Peter got—”

“Um, it’s essentially healed,” Peter says.

“Still.”

“You need one more than me,” Peter says, hands on his hips. “And you need a coat. And probably a coffee, I think that would help.”

Tony twists his wedding ring. “Jesus, fine.”

“Perfect!” Justin says, brightening up and clapping his hands. “Dream team, we will definitely find Regina now that we’re all together.”

_DAY THIRTY EIGHT_

_So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me_  
_SOS_  
_The love you gave me, nothing else can save me_  
_SOS_

Disappointment and failure live in Tony’s bones.

Pepper shoots up in bed, looking around. “What the hell was that?” she says. “It was like—I blinked and then things were—things were different—”

Tony covers his face with his hands. Pepper’s first real loop. She knows but she doesn’t. She knows but she doesn’t. Peter’s about to wake up. They couldn’t find shit yesterday, they didn’t find _shit_ , not one trace of Regina, they were still out looking at fucking midnight, out beyond the flux hours, they lost track of time wandering around trying to find her, the woman who did this, the woman who dropped them in this hell. He doesn’t blame her—Justin is a shithead, what he did to her sucked, but he wishes she would have stopped Justin from giving him the fucking half of the bracelet. Why did she allow him to get involved? Why didn’t she just stop him from coming here altogether?

They even pressed the little locator that Pepper got from Natasha, and instead of lighting up like it was supposed to, it stayed stagnant and unmoving. Even spy tech is worn out in this fucking place, and though Tony yelled at it and squeezed it in his hands, nothing happened.

Nothing happened.

“Tony,” Pepper whispers, hands on his arm. “Tony, babe—what’s wrong?”

He pulls his hands down, tears gathering in his eyes as he looks at her. “This is your second loop, Pep. We did this yesterday.”

She stares at him. Searches his face. “What?” she asks. “Really? Already? But we just—”

“That’s how it fucking works,” he says, gasping a little and wiping his eyes. “You throw your life away.” He swallows hard and thinks about Peter, tries to center himself for the kid’s sake. He sits up, looks over and sees him sitting up in his bed, his eyes wide and trained on Pepper. 

“Tony, what’s—Pepper, how did—when did…” He brings one hand up to his temple and winces a little bit. “I—I almost—did something happen?”

“Oh God, Tony,” Pepper says, still clutching at his shoulder. “Are you okay? Can you—do you need me to—”

“No,” Tony says, wiping his eyes again. “No, I got it.”

~

They get Happy and Rhodey into the room and Tony explains the situation to the three of them, hardly gets through it without weeping. Pepper isn’t entirely convinced that she’s had one loop already and he has to reexplain that, too, and prove it with details. The baby starts kicking again and they have another, similar moment to the one they had the first night Pepper was here, and Tony has to go into the bathroom instead of standing and watching, because he can’t take it. He can’t take it.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He’s better than this, he should be able to figure this shit out but now, because of his own fucking failure, his pregnant wife is stuck here too. He couldn’t have fucked up more. 

Without even really thinking about it, he leans in and punches the shit out of the mirror, and watches it splinter around his fist. The pain is sharp and warm and he grimaces, flexing his fingers and watching the blood trail between the lines in his hand. He staggers back and tries to give himself his own reset without taking off the goddamn bracelet.

_I don’t know, I feel like we’re gonna get out. Intact, you know, not—not with broken necks or broken legs. Even if this particular thing doesn’t work, I think…I think we’re gonna make it out._

Tony swallows hard, nodding to himself. He grabs a towel, wincing as he holds it to his bloody hand, and walks back out into the room.

“C’mon,” he says, to the group of them, still cooing over Pepper’s belly. “We gotta—we gotta get ready.”

~

Tony leans against the wall outside Justin’s room as Justin gets ready inside, tripping over shit and making lots of noise and talking too much. Like always. 

“So today, like you said, we gotta focus on her hiding,” Justin says. “She could be anybody.”

“Maybe focus on people you’ve slept with,” Tony mutters.

“Is your hand okay, honey?” Pepper asks, touching his shoulder lightly. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Tony says.

“Oh!” Justin says, appearing in the doorway. “Okay. Regina loved Disney shit. I hate it, but maybe—maybe she’s fucking with me, maybe she’s playing with me. Maybe we can break the loop with true love’s kiss.”

Tony doubts it, but he’d try anything at this point. He looks at Pepper and leans in, cupping her face with his good hand and kissing her. He hasn’t really done this since she arrived, only the once, and it feels like something special he’s allowing himself to have. She sighs against his lips like she was longing for it too, and they pull away, nuzzling their noses together.

“Oh, well, I guess that works too,” Justin says, disappearing back into his room.

“That works too?” Rhodey demands, before Tony can say anything. “Are you implying that—you thought you were—”

“No!” Justin yells, from out of sight. “Well, who knows, I mean, nothing happened, so—”

“Jesus Christ, Hammer,” Happy says, exchanging a look with Peter.

Tony is pretty used to his antics by now and he sighs, resting his head on Pepper’s shoulder. “We did think we might—that this might have something to do with learning a lesson,” he says. “So we…”

“Yeah, I heard you when you were telling them,” she says, laughing. “You decided to ballroom dance and make quiches.”

He looks up at her. “Soufflés, babe. They’re a lot more intense than quiches, lemme tell you.”

“Justin doesn’t need to sew or ice skate or any of that,” Pepper says. “He needs to learn a real lesson. He needs to talk to a professional.”

Tony laughs, looking over his shoulder and into the room, where Justin is stepping over his suitcase and muttering to himself, his jacket hanging off one shoulder. 

“Yeah, I sorta doubt he’d ever be okay with that.”

~

They spend the entire day searching. They eat on the run, and interrogate everyone so extensively that the police ask them what the hell they’re doing. Tony figures they don’t have anything to lose so they tell them about Justin’s missing girlfriend, what she looks like, and then they have them on her tail while they try to see if she’s disguised as someone else. They go near and far, up and down, all around, wind up participating in the Grateful Dead contest just so they can get a better look at the judges. 

Tony is losing it. He’s lost it. He’s somewhere between the two, bouncing back and forth like a pinball. The hope is dwindling in his chest again, if it was ever there to begin with, and he wonders if they’re on the wrong track, another wrong track amongst millions. Maybe it has nothing to do with the girlfriend. Maybe this is just random. Maybe they’ll never figure it out. Maybe they’re stuck here forever.

They do something they’ve never done before.

They walk through the cryogenic shed in the long line of people doing the same. It’s small, unimposing, wooden and sturdy like a small log cabin, but utterly freezing inside. Tony holds Pepper’s hand as they walk through, and his eyes flick up to the picture of the frozen dead guy himself, Bredo Morstol. He looked like a nice old man. Innocuous, unknowing that some evil curse would swoop in and destroy his day. 

His body is supposedly laid out in this big cryogenic freezer directly in front of them, though they can’t see through it to make sure. Peter leans in, narrowing his eyes, and Justin looks around the small shed suspiciously, like something else is hidden here. Tony finds it strange, that this is the reason for the whole festival. This man, this dead guy who had to be frozen to be transported here. This man who had no idea that his wake would last fifty years and counting.

Tony stops in front of the bored-looking man presiding over the shed and meets his gaze. 

“Why do you still keep him frozen?” he asks. “His family’s all dead and gone.”

The man shrugs. “It’s part of the town, now. He’ll always be here, just like this.”

Tony grits his teeth, a chill running through him that has nothing to do with the temperature of the shed. He looks at the others. “Alright, let’s…let’s move on.”

~

They keep looking until it gets dark, and then Tony lets Pepper take the reins because he’s exhausted to the point of collapsing. 

They wind up at the one therapist’s office in town, and instead of balking against it, Justin takes to it. Really, really takes to it.

“And I mean,” Justin says, blowing his nose, “I can’t help it if my mother was that way. I can’t. Can I help that her being that way made me that way? Maybe. Can I help that being better than other people is one of my main goals in life? Maybe, but I have no idea how to get off of that path. I don’t know how to—open up, every single time I do it I’m shot down. Present company can attest to that. Except Pepper, I would never open up to her, because she hates me.”

“Oh my God,” Rhodey groans. “Why are we here for this?”

“Yes, why are they here for this?” the therapist asks. “I know they’re not just moral support—are these just more people that you’re trying to convince, Justin? That you’re more than you make yourself out to be?”

“Only Tony, really,” Justin says, gazing at him fondly. Tony rolls his eyes, and Justin laughs. “The rest are just his hangers-on entourage, but Tony….yes, Tony is a whole other subject I’d like to delve into, if I could.”

“Can I go?” Peter asks, raising one finger. “I need to….stretch my legs.”

“Yes, you are dismissed,” Justin says.

“No, you are not dismissed,” Tony says, watching Peter’s wild eyes. “You’re not going out there alone, and we’ve gotta keep an eye on—”

“I’ll go with him,” Happy says, fast, grabbing Peter’s arm and hauling him out of the chair, and subsequently out the door. Tony sighs, watching them, watching the anger form in Rhodey’s expression.

Pepper leans in and kisses Tony on the cheek. “Sorry for the suggestion, babe,” she says. 

“Whatever,” Tony says, twisting his wedding ring back and forth. “Nothing matters anymore.”

“Now Tony,” Justin says, rubbing his hands together. “Tony Stark and me, well that’s a story.”

_DAY THIRTY NINE_

_You seem so far away, though you are standing near_  
_You made me feel alive, but something died, I fear_  
_I really tried to make it out, I wish I understood_  
_What happened to our love - it used to be so good_

_What am I supposed to do_  
_Sit around and wait for you_  
_Well I can't do that_  
_And there's no turning back_

Both songs are off. He’s sitting in silence. Well, lying in silence. On the ground between the two beds. He’s staring up at them—Pepper, Peter, Rhodey and Happy, all leaning over him and talking to him. He can’t really hear them because he’s not focusing—he just hears the two songs, mixing together and swarming around in his head. His death march. ABBA and Cher. Somehow, it feels appropriate. 

He vaguely hears a knocking at the door. He knows it’s Justin. He’s been here for a while now, it’s about time for them to meet up. Pepper touches Tony’s cheek, Peter is shaking his shoulder, Happy and Rhodey are _yelling_ at him. 

He explained it all. And then he collapsed. Because he’s done with this, done with all of this, he’s done with it, he doesn’t want to play the game anymore. It’s unwinnable, it’s killing him, they’re trapped. He might as well be a frozen dead guy too. Move over, Bredo.

“Focus, Tony!” Peter says, and Rhodey claps his hands. 

“We’re okay, Tones, we’re good, you don’t need to freak out,” Rhodey says. 

“We believe you, Tony,” Happy says, hand on his knee. “You’re good, just—you’re good, sit up.”

Tony covers his eyes with his hand. It’s coming into better focus now. He can’t leave them, he can’t give up on them, even if he’s given up on himself. 

“Tony, you’re okay,” Peter says. “You’re okay.”

Pepper’s hand covers his own. “I’m gonna take care of Hammer.”

“Don’t kill him,” Tony says, his voice breaking. He can hear the knocking and Justin’s voice on the other side of the door. _C’mon, Tony! Let me in!_

“I’m not gonna kill him,” Pepper says, squeezing Tony’s hand before he hears her struggle to get up.

“You need help?” Happy asks.

“No, you guys stay with him,” Pepper says.

Tony still hears that long, high-pitched tone in his ears but he can hear everything else now, too. He’s gotta get up, but he can’t make himself yet. He can’t face another day here, another failure. The looks in their eyes when they’re doubting his story, and slowly, slowly believing it. 

He hears the door open. 

“Oh, hey, Pep, can Tony come out to play?”

“We need to take you to a goddamn therapist.”

“Uh, yeah, we did that. Didn’t take. Well, it was a nice conversation. But here we are!”

“Jesus,” Pepper says. “Okay, Tony says—says this is about your ex? He says she put you here? That’s what we’re going with?”

“That’s what we’re going with.”

“So what do you think she’d want you to work on? With yourself. What did she hate most about you?”

“Your entitlement,” Tony says, sitting up. “Your impatience. How fucking curt you are with people. How you use and abuse people, throw them away when you’re done with them. You are not polite, you’re very—slapdash with the way you speak to people. You’re selfish as all hell.”

Pepper is staring at him, Justin is staring at him, they’re all staring at him.

“Well,” Justin says. “Sounds like I have a couple things to work on.”

~

They’re hovering around Tony like he’s the walking wounded, but they’re trying to act like they’re not doing that. They’re a few steps behind him but staying close, while Justin himself is a few feet away, apologizing to people that Tony pointed out. He actually seems to be having a real nice conversation, which doesn’t warm Tony’s heart. Not at all.

Tony walks over and sits on the bench closest to the sidewalk. He works his wedding ring up and off his finger, and tosses it from palm to palm. The four of them peer over at him like they’re trying not to be too obvious about it, and they look away just as quick.

“You’re gonna love it, I promise you,” Rhodey says, pushing Peter’s shoulder a little bit. “Tony and I had the time of our lives there.”

“What about Spiderman?” Peter asks. 

“Just because you’re at college doesn’t mean you have to be locked down there,” Happy says. “Plus, you’re not the only superhero on the streets, kid.”

“We’ve just gotta get him the hell out of here first,” Tony yells over. 

“Well, Justin is making his apologies,” Happy says. “Maybe that’ll do something.”

They’ve been saying that about everything. Tony feels sick. He knows this shit isn’t going to work. Nothing works here. If this is the girlfriend behind it all, Justin has pissed her off enough for her to banish him and all these other assholes into an unsolvable puzzle. And those assholes include him, his wife and his family. A couple apologies aren’t going to cut it. A couple good deeds that he comes up with on his own won’t make her forgive him, won’t make everything he did to hurt her go away. He is who he is, and he isn’t gonna change any time soon. Tony knows that. He’s seen Justin Hammer’s decision making up close and personal, and the only person he regards highly is himself. 

He hears that tone in his ears again, and his wedding ring hits the palm of his hand hard, like a fire brand against his skin. He stares at a patch of dead grass on the ground, surrounded by snow. He feels like that’s him. A vision into what he looks like, to any Gods looking down, to Regina keeping tabs. Frozen. Dead.

“…and then one day you’ll become a world renowned scientist and you’ll have more money than Tony,” Pepper says, laughing. Tony watches her walk over to the edge of the sidewalk a few paces away from the rest of them, leaning down to touch a sunflower that’s inexplicably growing out of the ground amongst the snow. She braces her hand on the swell of her stomach as she bends, and he watches her, thinking about their daughter and everything they’ve been through and all he wants from their life. Then he hears his ring hitting the sidewalk and rolling away. 

“Shit,” he mutters, getting to his feet and watching its trajectory. He feels frozen in place and it rolls past them, coming to a halt a little past Pepper and the sunflower, which sways in the wind.

“I got it,” Peter says. 

“It’s okay, I’m closest,” Pepper says, giving Tony a look like _you’re still playing with that thing?_ “And I did get it for him.”

“Sorry, babe,” Tony says, taking a few useless steps forward. His heart is beating fast, like an oncoming storm. He doesn’t know why, he doesn’t know what’s happening in his head. He wonders if he’ll ever be okay again.

“Pep, you’re pregnant,” Rhodey says, starting to move in her direction too.

Pepper waves him off. “Pregnant, not incapable.”

The next few seconds happen in a vacuum, like Tony has tunnel vision, like they’re sifting through tar or wet concrete. He hears the car screeching around the sharp corner and he knows before he really processes what’s happening—he sees the flash of red, sees where the fucking asshole is going, his car wild on the road and racing out of his lane, and Tony’s heart almost stops as he breaks into a run to try and reach her, save her, stop this. The car is headed right for Pepper, his pregnant Pepper, and he can’t take it, he can’t handle this, he’s so close but too far away, way too far away, the car is going too fast, their warnings didn’t stick in his head and he’s back to wreck Tony’s fucking life again—

They’re all screaming, all of them, and Peter almost reaches her before Justin pushes her out of the way, the car slamming into him and tossing him backwards like a ragdoll. Tony skids to a halt, shocked, quickly taking stock of Pepper, over in the grass but still in one piece, no blood, no blood, and he quickly counts all three of the others before the car crashes into a light post, laying hard onto the horn. 

Tony rushes over to Pepper, and sees she’s holding his ring in her hand. 

“Honey,” he says, his voice breaking as he reaches her, the others behind him. “Honey, are you—you feel okay—are you—”

“Justin,” she says. “He—he pushed me out of the way. We have to—we’ve gotta see—”

“Right,” Tony says, shaking as he pulls her to her feet. She’s clutching his ring like a lifeline and they all rush over to where Justin is laying crumpled in the grass. His leg is twisted and he’s taking harsh, ragged breaths, clutching his middle. Tony is holding onto Pepper’s arm, afraid to let go of her, and he takes a brief look at Peter, sees the horror in his eyes. He’s kept them from death here as best as he could, and this—this came too close to Pepper. Way too close. And now Justin is dying again. Worse than ever. 

He saved her. He saved her, he decided that, he chose that…he got there before any of the rest of them could. Knowing the cost.

“Tony, he’s—he’s—”

Tony lets go of her and drops down, leaning over him. His eyes are a little glazed over and he’s breathing through his mouth, a line of blood seeping out and running over his chin. 

“Hey, buddy,” Tony says, touching his cheek, trying to get him to focus. He sorta feels like he’s gonna have a heart attack. “Hey, Justin. Hey, look at me.”

Justin swallows hard and his gaze meets Tony’s. He winces a little bit. “Pep—is Pepper—”

“She’s good,” Tony says, looking at her. “She’s—you—”

“Justin,” she says, kneeling down too and touching his arm. “Thank—thank you.”

Justin smiles a little bit, the corner of his mouth tugging up. He coughs and it sounds painful, and Tony doesn’t know what to do. Justin’s eyes go a little cloudy again, and he sucks in a few clipped breaths. “Just—just name the baby—Justine.” He takes another difficult breath and doesn’t take another one, his head going limp against Tony’s hand.

The car horn is still going off in the background.

“Is he—is—” Peter stutters, his voice going out.

“Yeah,” Tony croaks, gently resting his head back down in the grass.

“Jesus,” Happy breathes. “Jesus, he—”

“I can’t believe he did that,” Pepper says. “I didn’t…I didn’t think…”

“Me either,” Rhodey says. “I thought he was a big asshole, but I guess—even the biggest assholes don’t let pregnant women get hit by cars, if they can help it.” He sighs. 

Tony can’t stop staring at Justin’s face. Dead again. Dead again, but he saved Pepper before any of them could. 

“I’m gonna go see—what happened to the dickhead in the car,” Rhodey says. 

Tony’s mouth is dry and it feels like the snow is falling harder. He doesn’t know what to do. He feels lost, and Pepper sits down the rest of the way, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Don’t blame yourself for this,” she says, taking his hand. People are rushing around, yelling, screaming, starting a commotion. 

Tony feels like he’s malfunctioning. Justin’s dead. A car almost hit Pepper. He almost had to—he almost had to watch that—he almost had to fucking see that. 

He closes his eyes, takes a big breath, and when he opens them—

When he opens them—

He’s alone. Completely alone. There’s no one here—no one—no dead Justin, no Pepper, no Peter, no Rhodey, no Happy, no smoking car, no car horn—no goddamn townspeople—he touches the ground, his hands sink in the snow and there’s nothing, no one, the whole town is fucking _gone._ He’s alone. He’s in Nederland alone. A ghost town.

He scrambles to his feet, breathing through his mouth, and spins around once, his eyes wide. The snow is falling slowly, like some majestic background scene in an old movie.

He’s cracking up. He’s finally cracking up. He’s lost it, he’s lost his mind for good.

“Hello?” he yells, turning around again. “Hello? Pep? Peter? Happy? Rhodey—am I still here? Are you all invisible? Can you—can you hear me? Shit.”

The dead guy tents are all empty, flapping in the wind. The dead flowers are blowing off their table, the ice sculptures are half made, melting. He’s alone. He’s completely alone. 

Until he turns around again.

Regina is standing there in the middle of the square, looking down at her nails. She looks like she did in Justin’s photo, except her hair is a little longer. She’s wearing a long black dress and she scrutinizes her hand for a second before cracking her wrist and looking up at him. She doesn’t seem surprised to see him there and she yawns, approaching him. 

Tony stumbles back a little bit, his eyes so wide they hurt. “Am I—am I hallucinating you?”

She chuckles. “No, babe. It’s nice to finally see you, see you. Like for real, in front of me. With my own eyes. Feel like I’ve been that guy for years.”

Tony turns his head to the side. “What, uh—wait. You were posing as someone else? We were—”

“Yeah, you were right on that front, Iron Man,” she says, looking at her nail again, biting it for a second. “And the suit was a nice touch, I was proud of your girl for that one. Couldn’t let you get too far, though, but it was nice to watch you fly.”

Tony’s mind is racing, tripping over itself trying to catch up. He rubs his hand over his chest. “Uh. Jesus. Sorry, I, uh—I wasn’t even sure if we were right about it being you, I’m kinda—losing it here—”

“Don’t worry, it’s over now,” she says, walking over, really close, and brushing some snow out of his hair. “It’s done. He’s dead.” She looks away from him then, raising her eyebrow and clearing her throat. 

A shudder runs through Tony. “What?”

“It’s over.”

“You want him to stay dead? You were—you were waiting to—choose his death?”

She swallows hard, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at the ground. She swipes a bit of snow away with her boot and cracks her jaw. “He finally had a selfless death. I don’t know if he would have done that for any of you, maybe you but I don’t—I think he might have hesitated. But her, he couldn’t—he couldn’t let it happen…surprised me, I didn’t think he had it in him, but I guess—I guess bringing her here did bring it all to a close, huh?” She laughs a little bitterly. “He never wanted to have kids before. Maybe he found a soft spot because it’s your kid.”

Tony reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, I—God. Wait. Wait. Stuck on you letting him die permanently even though you know he died doing something good. Stuck on that fact.”

“That’s something I didn’t ever think Justin would achieve,” she says, shrugging. “He’s lucky.”

“Lucky?” Tony asks. “You torture him for months, let him die a couple times, and then let him die for real? How’s that lucky?”

She doesn’t look at him, and her hair blows in the wind. She seems like she’s on the edge of something, and she clears her throat again. Tony feels panicky and he chews on his lip. He knows he’s got something important to do here and he doesn’t know how to do it.

“You know, uh, I don’t know how close you’ve been watching, but he always gets this look in his eyes when he talks about you,” Tony says, willing his voice not to shake. “I mean, he just—he really lights up.”

She looks at him with her eyes narrowed. 

“I’m serious,” he says.

“Oh yeah?” she asks. “What does he say about cheating on me? Does that make him twinkle too?”

Tony shakes his head. It’s hard to defend Justin fucking Hammer, that’s for sure, but it seems like she’s trying to convince herself to let him stay dead, and that just doesn’t fly with Tony. Not in the slightest. “Listen, I know the guy’s an idiot. I know he is. But there—there had to have been some good times. How long were you together?”

She smiles a little bit, tapping her boot in the snow. “Well, I’ve known him my whole life. I wouldn’t say childhood sweethearts, but…he might. We grew up on the same street, went to the same schools….lost contact after high school but I found him again in college and I just—I don’t know.”

She’s actually blushing. Talking about Hammer.

“How was the first date?” Tony asks. “The real first date, none of that kid shit.”

“Well, we made out for the first time when we were eleven,” she says, looking up like she’s thinking back.

Tony hums a little to himself, narrowing his eyes. “Mm…okay.”

“But first date—that was in college. It was really sweet, we were both at this frat party and he offered to share half of his cocaine with me and then we set fire to the house.”

Tony stares. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, oh yeah—real—real sweet.”

She shrugs but she’s still smiling. 

“He said in the light of the fire I looked just like Paris Hilton,” she says. “He was really sweet back then.”

Jesus Christ.

“He never knew you—you had magic?” Tony asks, tentative.

“He should have,” Regina says. “I made a lot of things happen for him that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. We floated a lot during sex and he said that had to do with his sexual prowess.”

“Oh my God,” Tony says, covering his eyes. 

“I gave up on him a long time ago,” she says. “I couldn’t believe he cheated on me like he did. We’ve been through so much. I always stood by him, through all of his bullshit. And then that.”

“Listen,” Tony says, fearing he’s losing her. “Listen. I think what you did here, for him—was good. It taught him some things.”

“Really? Because I—”

“I know you were here hiding somewhere and keeping tabs and whatnot, but sadly enough I had front row seats. And I may not know Justin as well as you do but I do know him, I’ve dealt with him—and I saw him change, here. I’ve never had him speak to me the way he did in the hotel hallway and today—this—shit, he and Pepper hate each other. She’s the one that had him arrested.”

“I know,” Regina says.

“And look what he did,” Tony says, gesturing over to the spot where they were, a chill running through him. “He knows anything could happen at any time. We could trip over a pebble and solve the loop, that’s how much we know. But he did it anyway.”

She doesn’t say anything, staring off, her hair whipping around in the wind. 

“He does deserve to go back to jail, and I’m gonna make that happen if you—if your benevolence—if you let him live. But I think you did get something through his thick skull here. And I think—I think he’s a better man because of it. I really do. And maybe he needs some slapping around, sure—shit, maybe something else, he’d like that too much—”

She laughs a little bit, shaking her head. 

“But he doesn’t deserve to die. And I think you know that. I can see it in your face, you don’t wanna kill him.”

She sighs, meeting his eyes again. She chews on her nail for a couple seconds, looking him up and down. “I guess you did help him,” she says.

“Huh?”

“I let you come—I let the whole remembering thing slide…dumb idiot, cutting up the talisman and giving you a piece of it—” She sighs, rolling her eyes. “I let it slide because I thought, as Justin’s best friend, that you’d be able to help him.”

Tony scoffs. “As who’s what now?”

“You’re Justin’s best friend,” she says. “He never shut the hell up about you, from the moment he discovered you.”

“Who? Who?” Tony coughs, she laughs, he stumbles back, shaking his head. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna—yeah, I don’t know. Just let him live, I don’t want him to die.”

She stares at him. 

“And I know you don’t wanna kill him. You’re pissed, you think you should want to but you—you really don’t. You love his stupid skinny ass.”

She looks off again, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. She looks at him suspiciously, and he gets nervous, just for a second. “Fine,” she says, snapping her fingers.

_DAY FORTY_

_I've paid my dues_  
_Time after time_  
_I've done my sentence_  
_But committed no crime_  
_And bad mistakes_  
_I've made a few_  
_I've had my share of sand kicked in my face_  
_But I've come through_

Tony groans just as Freddie Mercury starts crooning that famous chorus, and then fear shoots through his heart. He slowly sits up, every nerve-ending on fire—the light in the room is different. The curtains are open, he can see rain falling diagonally outside, hard and fast, but there’s no thunder, he can’t hear it at all. Pepper is beside him in bed, slowly waking up to the sound of the music. He looks down at his hand—he has his wedding ring on. But no bracelet. The bracelet is gone. 

His heart beats faster. He looks over, sees Peter in the other bed, his brows furrowed, but—Happy is next to him, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Tony leans over the side of the bed and sees Rhodey bundled up at the base of the bedside table, still sleeping.

Tony swallows hard, in a trance. He reaches over, palming the alarm clock and turning it upside down, cutting off the music. It isn’t ABBA. It isn’t. They’re all—things are different. They’re different.

“Tony…” Pepper mutters, turning over and looking at him.

He leans down, planting a soft kiss to her mouth. “Oh my God,” he whispers. He kisses her again.

But Justin. He’s gotta find out what the hell happened to Justin. He scrambles to the end of the bed, but he doesn’t have to go far—Justin is there. At the foot of their bed on the ground. Sleeping soundly. Tony watches his chest rising up and down, and he makes a couple stupid noises in his sleep. He’s alive.

Tony sits back, his hand over the core of his chest.

“Tony,” Peter says. 

“Pete,” Tony says. “You okay? You alright?”

Peter looks at him, the weak daylight streaming in through the window and draping over his face. “I remember,” he says. “Oh my God—I remember—oh my God. All of it. I remember all of it.”

Tony stares for what feels like forever. Watches as Happy sits up the rest of the way, breathing hard through his mouth. 

“Me too,” Happy says. “Shit. Every—single loop, I remember all of it. Jesus.”

Tony feels dizzy. He looks over his shoulder at Pepper and she nods at him. 

“Wasn’t much,” she says. “But…me too.”

Tony climbs back over to his side of the bed, nearly topples off of it reaching for Rhodey. He grabs his shoulder and shakes him, hard, making him gasp awake. 

“What?” Rhodey asks. “What—what—oh.”

“Oh?” Tony asks, shaking him again. “What oh?”

“Fuck,” Rhodey breathes.

“Okay, yeah,” Tony says, leaning back up and collapsing down in the bed. He stares up at the ceiling, blinking slowly. He doesn’t know what his mind is doing. He feels like he’s slipping into a coma. He feels really warm, like he’s boneless. He doesn’t know what happened.

Regina. She stopped the fucking loop.

“The fire,” Peter says. “The—the suit—all the times you had to tell us—oh my God, over and over and over—”

“Yeah,” Tony says, still staring at the ceiling.

Pepper sits up beside him, putting her hand on his chest. “You okay?” she asks.

“Is the baby alright?” Tony asks, still staring up, frozen. Warm, but frozen. His body isn’t working. His brain is going really slow.

“She’s fine,” Pepper says, and she takes one of his hands and puts it over her stomach. He closes his eyes, sucking in a breath.

“Jesus, Tony,” Rhodey says. “Jesus, we’ve done—so much shit. We’ve been here for fucking forever.”

“Uh…” Justin’s voice says. Tony opens his eyes, sitting up, and both he and Pepper stare down at him. He’s bracing his hands on the edge of the bed and the other three stop muttering, giving him the floor. Justin’s eyes dart back and forth between them. “Um. I’m here. I’m in your room.”

“You are,” Tony says. 

“What—the car accident,” he says, looking at Pepper.

“I talked to her,” Tony says. “Regina.”

Justin’s jaw drops. “Holy shit.”

Tony thinks about telling him how he fought for his life, how he changed her mind, or stopped her from making that decision, even though she seemed on the fence about it to begin with. But he doesn’t say anything about that. He just smiles, shaking his head, feeling like he’s gonna burst into tears. “It’s over,” he says. “She let us go.”

~

Everyone remembers. Everyone they run across. All of it. And, apparently, time has caught up with Nederland, because it’s not snowing anymore. It’s not even really cold. But it is raining, and when they’re hauling their stuff out into the lobby a very wet Regina pushes her way inside. Justin’s footsteps stutter, and they all gasp when she waves her hand through the air and she’s suddenly dry again.

“How the hell did you not know this woman did magic?” Happy asks. 

“To be fair,” Regina says. “I never did anything that blatant in front of him.”

Tony peers out the front door, sees people running around frantically, all talking to each other. He looks over his shoulder and sees the woman behind the front desk whispering harshly to three other people, all of them gesturing wildly.

“So you let everybody know, huh?” Tony asks.

“Yup,” she says, and doesn’t seem at all ashamed of what she did. “You’re lucky, babycakes,” she says, looking at Justin. “Tony wouldn’t let you die.”

Justin turns around to look at him and Tony scoffs, waving him off. 

“Oh really?” Justin asks.

“I don’t want that kind of thing on my conscience, or Pepper’s either,” Tony says. “Has nothing to do with anything else.”

“Are you sure?” Justin asks. “You haven’t—”

“I haven’t,” Tony says, cutting him off, not caring what the rest of that sentence was gonna be. “And frankly, this one—this one deserves a real apology,” he says, pointing at Regina.

Justin eyes Tony for a second before he turns and looks at Regina, and somehow he turns weirdly shy, kicking at the ground and rubbing the back of his neck. “Riri, I—you know I’m an idiot.”

“You are,” she says, reaching out and tugging on his collar. “But I think I’m gonna give you another chance.”

“Ho-ly shit,” Tony says, laughing. “Really? Really? After—after all this, after you were so ready to kill him?” 

“That’s kinda how our relationship works,” Justin says, laughing.

“You guys can go,” Regina says. “I’ll take him out.”

Tony narrows his eyes, looking around at the others and then back at Justin and Regina again. “Um. You’re not gonna—kill him as soon as we’re out of sight, right?”

“Aww, he really does care,” Regina says, and Justin is giving him this look—Jesus Christ.

“Alright, whatever, I don’t care,” Tony says. “Wait. One thing I do wanna know. You said you were in town, right?” he asks her.

“Yeah, I was.”

“As someone else?”

“I was Mr. Tommy Beamer living out in the cabins,” she says, puffing out her chest and raising her eyebrows. 

“Holy fuck,” Justin says. “No way! No wonder he was such a freak! I knew it! That’s amazing, babe.”

“The guy you slept with?” Tony asks, his heart stuttering. “The one we saw out there—in the suspenders?”

“Tis I!” she says, grinning.

“Oh, Jesus,” Tony says, wiping at his eyes. “Oh, good lord.” He doesn’t wanna think about that. At all. Ever.

“You got a car?” Justin asks her. “Or are you just gonna magic us out? This opens up a whole new world of possibilities.”

“Take my car,” Pepper says, stepping forward, taking Justin’s hand and putting the keys in it. “I’ll tell them I crashed it and pay the fee.”

“Well, hey—thanks—thanks Pepper,” Justin says, holding up the keys. 

“Yeah, thanks,” Regina says. “The drive out is really nice, real scenic. I’d rather do that than any teleporting. Bet you guys’ll really like the view.”

Tony doesn’t think she’ll ever understand how goddamn much they’ll like the view of leaving this town behind. He tugs on Justin’s shoulder and pulls him aside, a little away from the group. He vaguely hears Peter asking Regina something about the loop, and Tony hopes none of them piss her off enough to change her mind about letting them go.

He pats Justin on the shoulder, and Justin holds his head high.

“You love me now. I totally get it.”

“You think far too highly of yourself,” Tony says. 

“But you definitely think more highly of me after this experience. Right? Right?”

Tony sighs. “Thank you for saving Pepper.”

“Well, it didn’t look like any of you were gonna make it, and I couldn’t—I mean, even if we were gonna keep looping, I couldn’t—I couldn’t let—”

“I know,” Tony says, squeezing his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, you’re…you’re welcome. Sorry about all this again, honestly, shit. You’ve got a good little family here and I—I’m sorry they got caught up in my relationship drama.”

“I have never seen relationship drama this dramatic,” Tony says. “Like, ever. This takes the cake.”

Justin nods, but he’s smiling.

“You know I gotta find you on the outside, right?” Tony asks, trying to push away his sentimental feelings. “And send you straight to jail.”

Justin meets his eyes, nodding at him. “I’m counting on it.”

~

Pepper drives Rhodey’s rental, and no one fights her on it. They stuff their bags in the trunk and head for the way out, ignoring the pandemonium the town has been thrown into now that they know about their Eternal Dead Guy Day. Tony has a few qualms about leaving Justin behind with Regina, but when he sees them making out in the rearview mirror, getting ready to go in Pepper’s car, he has a little more hope than he did a moment before.

The rain isn’t wild or falling hard, and it makes a rainbow in the sky as they drive out of Nederland. The roads are slick and Pepper drives ten miles per hour at the max, all of them holding their breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

They can’t actually be getting out. They can’t be. 

“Jesus, if we actually get out, I’m never gonna have the energy to track him down,” Tony says, twisting his wedding ring again. He stops himself, remembering what happened the last time. 

“No worries, babe,” Pepper says. “I put Natasha’s tracker in their car.”

Tony feels a change in the air. He looks over at her slowly, raising his eyebrows. 

“Wow,” Happy says.

“Oh my God—”

“You’re a mastermind, Pep—”

“You know you’re the best, right?” Tony asks. “You know that?”

“Of course,” Pepper says, smiling to herself.

They’re quiet as they keep going, and Tony clears his throat to cut the silence.

“There’s where we went off the cliff,” Peter says, pointing out the window.

“Jesus, it’s so weird to remember it all—”

“Yeah, not a fan—”

Tony covers his mouth with his hand. His heart is booming in his ears and he feels like he’s gonna lose it. Freak out. He can hear SOS in his head. He’s gonna wake up in his fucking bed any second now. They’re gonna fail, they’re gonna die.

But she keeps driving.

And driving. 

And driving.

“Tony,” Peter says, leaning forward. “This is—this is the furthest we’ve ever gone.”

Tony breathes hard. He nods. He feels like he’s slipping into shock, his emotions overwhelming him. Tears fall from his eyes and roll down his cheeks, and he watches the road span out in front of them. Nothing in their way. No snow, no barriers, nothing stopping them. 

Peter rests his forehead on Tony’s shoulder, gripping his arm. Rhodey leans forward and shakes his other shoulder, and Happy laughs, leaning in and patting his chest. 

“We’re getting out,” Pepper whispers. “We’re doing it.”

All of their phones chime to life then, voicemail tones and text chirps, over and over and over again, the car filled with all kinds of different noises. 

They’re leaving Nederland behind. They’re on their way.

_THREE WEEKS LATER_

“Are we gonna play chess every time you visit me?” Justin asks, pouting at him from across the table.

“Maybe,” Tony says, moving his knight.

“That’s a pain in the ass,” Justin says. “You know I’m not good at it.”

“Yeah, that’s why I like to play.” 

Tony looks around. The visitation room is pretty full today, daughters visiting their fathers, brothers visiting brothers. He managed to get Justin locked up in a country club type place with really good security, and he’ll be eligible for parole in ten years. Tony feels a little bad about locking him up again after he was trapped for so long, but then he remembers little Peter and the drone that almost killed him, and he doesn’t feel so bad anymore. He did save Pepper, hence the country club aspect. 

“You still painting?” Tony asks.

“Yeah,” Justin says, petulantly, like he doesn’t want to admit that. “Did a swan picture today. Probably the best in the class.”

“Fancy,” Tony says, grinning at him.

Justin stares at the board, but doesn’t make a move. “How’s the baby?”

“She’s good,” Tony says. “Everything’s on time, we’re hurdling towards that due date. We made a birthing playlist that doesn’t include any ABBA. Retaking my time. Decided on Ava, so the name’s good to go.”

“Love that,” Justin says, smiling.

“You still seeing Regina?” Tony asks. He knows she could easily magic him out of here, considering she held one Colorado town in the palm of her hand like it was nothing, but she hasn’t yet.

“Yes sir,” Justin says. “Got the conjugal this Thursday and I’m counting down the seconds.”

Tony clears his throat and nods. “Gross, but good for you. You gonna make a move?”

“On you? You ready for me?”

“Have you learned nothing?” Tony asks. “Nothing? Why did I barter for your life?”

“You’re so sweet—”

“You have not changed—at all. After all that.”

Justin snorts, picking up one of his pawns, looking at Tony, and then he makes a really, really bad move. Tony laughs, rubbing his hands together. 

“Ugh, great,” Justin says.

“You’ll get better,” Tony says, taking the pawn from him. 

“You know what I keep thinking?” Justin asks, leaning his elbows on the table and looking wistfully off towards the window. “We’ll always have Nederland.”

“Jesus, God, no,” Tony says, grimacing. “That was not Paris. We are not in Casablanca. You are not—”

“Tony. We’ll always have Nederland.”

Tony glares at him, and hates the new fondness in his heart.

~

Everyone is gathered in the living room at the compound, open pizza boxes strewn about, and Tony hears Happy and Rhodey banging around in the kitchen, trying to make a cheesecake. They told Peter’s teachers that he was kidnapped—that he was taken along with Tony in an attempt by terrorists to get rid of Iron Man, and thankfully, that was a good enough excuse for him to be able to make up all the work he missed and still be able to graduate. They all decided to help, and tonight they’re finishing off his scientist interview, which he did with Bruce, a few of his book reports, and the mock commercial with Steve that’ll earn him extra credit points. 

“Okay, c’mon,” Tony says, pointing the camera at Steve and Peter, hearing Natasha and May laugh from the couch behind him. “I need more hutzpah in this. Mostly from you, Rogers, Peter’s perfect.”

Peter beams at him. 

“How did you become the director?” Steve asks. “I thought we were using Clint, I thought that’s what we decided on.”

“Clint is on map duty!” Clint yells, from the dining room. “Stop harassing him, Steve.”

“I am not _harassing_ him.”

“Peter,” Thor calls, from the couch beside May. “Did you actually enjoy this novel? This _Wuthering Heights_?”

“It was good,” Peter says, nodding. “Really dark.”

“He actually read it,” Natasha says, gesturing towards Thor. “He had a lot to say earlier when he got here.”

“It was disturbing,” Thor says. 

“Well, a lot to say is good,” Tony says, looking over his shoulder at them. He catches sight of May and grits his teeth a little bit. “Are you, uh—good with all this? Us—helping—with his work?”

“Of course,” May says, laughing. “As long as it gets done, and I get to…hang out here,” she says, looking at Thor out of the corner of her eye.

“Got it,” Tony says, winking at her. 

“I’m giving you a ton of amazing information in here, buddy,” Bruce says, still lounging in the easy chair with his laptop in his lap. “You’re gonna kill this thing.”

“Thank you,” Peter says, grinning, and he looks at Tony again.

“Okay,” Tony says. “Please, actors—Steve—let’s do this right.” He presses the record button. “Okay, we’re rolling.”

Steve turns dramatically to Peter, tapping him on the shoulder like they’re in some kind of 1950’s cartoon. “Say, kid—”

“Cheesecake!” Happy yells, as he and Rhodey walk into the room, Happy carrying the cheesecake itself, Rhodey with a pile of plates.

“Aw, c’mon!” Steve says. “I felt like that one was gonna be good.”

“Eat break!” Tony calls, turning off the camera again.

They eat, they keep working on Peter’s projects, they eat some more, and eventually Tony ushers everyone to their rooms to call it a night. He checks in on Pepper, who is apparently taking another one of her long baths, and then he heads back into the living room to close up shop and sees Peter in there, looking over everybody’s work.

“Time for bed, kid,” Tony says. “Didn’t May tell you?”

“Yeah, she just said goodnight,” Peter says, leaning over the map Clint was making for him.

“Did birdman do good work?” Tony asks, walking over to him.

“I feel a little guilty with everyone doing my work,” Peter says, sitting on the edge of the table.

“Don’t,” Tony says, shaking his head. “You’ve contributed to everything, they’re just helping you out. You missed a lot of time, right at the end of the year, you had a lot of big projects to finish, we weren’t gonna leave you high and dry.”

Peter nods, swinging his feet. He has a weird look on his face, and Tony nudges into his shoulder. “You good?” he asks.

Peter looks at him. “I guess after all this, all we’ve done and talked about since we’ve been back, I’m not…exactly scared of going to college anymore.”

“Well, good,” Tony says. “That’s good. And remember, I own three private jets. If you wanna come home, all you have to do is ask.”

Peter nods, cracking his jaw. He’s quiet.

“Something else?” Tony asks.

“All my memories from Nederland are like—I don’t know how to describe it. They’re there, like I remember them, like I lived them, but they’re kinda compounded. Like the amount of time it actually was…feels shorter to me? Than it actually was? I don’t know how to describe it. But I keep thinking…about you, about what you went through. When we couldn’t help. I remember not being able to help. I remember being…feeling useless.”

“You were never useless,” Tony says. “You never could be. None of you.”

“I just keep thinking about it,” Peter says. “And after all you’ve gone through, I’m just—I know I’ve said this, but I’m sorry you had to go through all that, too.”

“Not your fault, bud,” Tony says, ruffling his hair. Usually that simple move seems to calm Peter a little bit, but now he looks at Tony with seriousness in his eyes.

“You ever feel like you’re still there?” he asks. “Because—even with my weird memories, sometimes I wake up and I think—I think I’m still there.”

Tony sighs, his hand falling down to Peter’s shoulder. He remembers the way the cotton comforter felt. The way the sheets would pull out from the far corner of the bed by his feet. The pockmarked ceiling. The cold that seeped through the window. The broken logs in their fireplace. SOS. SOS. SOS.

“Every morning Pepper has to remind me that I’m here,” Tony says, looking at him. “That’ll probably go on for a while. I’ll never be able to listen to ABBA again properly, so those _Mama Mia_ movies are…out, despite my love for Meryl Streep.”

Peter snorts, looking down.

“But in the first couple days, I could hardly go a moment without thinking about it, but these days—I’m good. I’m good, I know we’re here, we’re safe, Justin’s alive and in prison and horrifyingly enough, I think we’re friends now? What a goddamn mess.”

“But you’re okay?” Peter asks. “Like you’re…you’re gonna be okay.”

Tony nods at him. They’re in the compound, back with their family. Peter’s going to college, Happy and Rhodey know how to bake now. Little Ava’s getting ready for her first appearance.

“Yeah,” Tony says. “We’re gonna be okay. Now off with you, c’mon.”

Peter smiles a little bit, patting his hand and getting down off the table. “Night, Tony.”

“Night, kid,” Tony says. He watches him walk through the living room and turn into the hallway, and just as Tony is moving to clean up a little and head up to join Pepper, a goddamn portal opens up right in front of his television, and Stephen Strange steps out.

Tony stares at him incredulously. 

“Tony,” Strange says, wiping something off his shoulder as the portal closes. “Did you need me?”

Tony stares at him like he’s not real, gapes at him and his haphazard appearance. “No,” he says. “No, no. You’re late. You’re like. A month and a bunch of weeks late. Like really late, late to the point where we had to solve the problem on our own. No thanks to you and your lack of voicemail.”

“Well, I was busy,” Strange says, and he kinda looks like he’s got dirt on his stupid magic outfit. “I had a thing.”

“Oh yes,” Tony says, waving his hand through the air. “Your infamous thing.”

“I gave Pepper all the information I had. You’re not my main priority, you know.”

Tony scoffs, looking him up and down. “Wow. Wow. Ever the same, huh?” He walks over, wrapping his arm around Strange’s shoulders and tugging him towards him. “You know what? For that comment, you get the whole story.”

“Uh, no, I was just checking in—”

“This is what you get, I’m sorry,” Tony says, leading him into the living room. “Sit in the easy chair, I’m gonna spread out on the couch, you know, get comfortable. If you open a portal to try and escape I’m gonna jump in after you. I’ve got moves like a gymnast, don’t try me.”

“Good God,” Strange mutters, as Tony pushes him down by the shoulders into the chair. “Okay, I’ll humor—”

“I’ll set the scene,” Tony says, laying down on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head and stretching out his legs. “It all started with ABBA.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for going on this journey with me. This story has been a major trip but I'm so glad I got it finished. If you want to yell at me about anything, my tumblr is iron--spider.tumblr.com :) Love you guys, let me know what you think of the conclusion!!


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